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Our Land was pure.
The grass was green.
Our Water was clean.
The leaves could cure.

We drank from the stream
With leaves bridged to the rock as cups.
As we laved our body under the heavy drops,
Our body needed no cream.

We were at peace

The Palm wine tasted like honey.
The village square was our group chat.
Words were strong and laughter from the heart.
Love was not bought with money.

Our Farms yielded with interest.
We had enough to eat and ship.
Our eyes are closed when we sleep.
We worked, worked and had our rest.

We were not at war

Our Merchants traveled South, West and North.
With products of trade for exchange of coins.
Women were married not just for groins.
Deals were made, no one was fought.

Then came the experts with hats and guns.
They took our lands and made us Roomers.
They deceived our neighbors and made us brothers.
Our rights were taken and we became their puns.

We were just neighbours

They joined North, South, West and East.
Sampling cultures, languages and philosophies.
Building bridges with religions and varied ideologies.
Then they called everyone to a National Feast.

Everyone was invited but not all was allowed in
The silent majority became the subjects
The vocal minority longed to be like the experts
Then truth and faith were thrashed in the bin

We were not brothers

The experts chose their Successors who were like their Predecessors
Our Land was sold but we were told it was rich
The light was gone and life beyond our reach
Abnormal became normal and partners became predators

Our joy was taken
Our Land became cold
So we were told
The intentions were mistaken

Then there was war

Our brothers left our sisters and children
To fight our neighbours who turned brothers and turned enemies
A gap was created, farm lands turned to colonies
We saw the amputations and ashes of our brethren

The Land was lost
Progress went far away to years before the war
History was neatly washed to remove the gore
So we forgot the fallen whose life was the huge cost

But there was no Victor no Vanquish

#Fallen by Ota Uma Ben
(c) 2018
Unedited Version.


  1. Oh this brought tears to my eyes. God heal our land. May our departed heroes rest in peace and may peace and tranquillity be restored to Nigeria so we no longer lose our heroes every now and then.

  2. We pray for peace, yes for peace but that which made our heroes fall is still happening may God help them stand and not to fall if there is still heroes of this time

  3. The tale of a once great country. Nice work,sir.

  4. _Our neighbors turned brother becames enemies_ too many punch lines in one poem, I instantly felt like doing a spoken word.
    Nothing has described this whole arrangement better.

    Class act!!! From the master๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿฟ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿฟ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿฟ

  5. Great work. Simple language. Picturesque allusions. Idyllic imageries. Rustic setting. And the "ABBA" qaudran verses, though a rare scheme in poetry but creatively woven around it all to achieve a classic rhythm. Bravo Sir. Poetry is science.

  6. Wow! The poem is awesome. May the souls of the fallen Heroes keep resting in the bosom of God almighty


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