31 Days Of Poetry- Day 24- WHEN THE REVOLUTION SPOKE- by Efe Paul

When the revolution spoke
Blind minds open
You can’t stop the word being spoken
When the revolution spoke
The comedians couldn't joke, even the rich felt broke
When the revolution spoke
They said it was treason
But couldn’t jail the rhyme without a reason
When the revolution spoke
One million youths marching
All in their path they’re smashing

I was born to black Nigerian parents of lowly means
Poverty, lack and squalor, I know very well what they mean
I was born into the crowd, an insignificant statistic amongst the masses
watching the economy dwindle, eroding the middle class
observing my folks choose between the upper or lower classes
I was raised up on these streets
so I’m privy to its sorrows, its pains and its tears
I’m privy to the retired sergeant in a one room shack crowded with kids,
awaiting pension, a symbol of wasted years
I’m privy to disillusioned youths,
in pursuit of loot
brandishing rebellion, holding distorted perceptions of life and truth
On the streets I see the apprentice mechanic, the street hawker, the tout
kids only in their teens
all hopes of an education are now ghosts,
languishing in the graveyard of dead dreams
I see the petty trader and oh yes she looks distressed
she’s the mother of five barely spaced kids and she can’t handle the stress
Her man is a danfo driver
but the routes are filled with police and area boys so each day he comes back with less
Can somebody please tell me where to find opportunity!
Because he’s hardly seen or recognized amongst the masses, where I’m from
Where
misery is sung
by the tongue of the old and the young
John couldn’t gain employment with his first degree
so he killed his conscience and employed a gun
Here
greed and lust conspire against the poor
to convert their daughters into shameless whores
These things I saw
These pains I bore
In fellowship with the masses

When the revolution spoke
Blind minds open
You can’t stop the word being spoken
When the revolution spoke
The comedians couldn’t joke, even the rich felt broke
When the revolution spoke
They said it was treason
But couldn’t jail the rhyme without a reason
When the revolution spoke
One million youths marching
All in their path they’re smashing

Growing up on these ghetto streets I’ve seen it all
I remember friends who thought school ‘un-cool’
plus they couldn’t afford it, so they chose to gamble on football
But many games have since been played
many years gone by and I still can’t find them
I guess they never made…
I guess they never made it
Just like their folks and the others I remember growing with
on these ghetto streets
No!
these ghetto graveyards
where lives are wasted and dreams are buried
my wife says, “Honey don’t be worried,
our generation will change it
we’ll right the wrongs of our fathers, shake off the inertia of our mothers
we won’t recycle the same sh*t”
Excuse my language
but I’m still trying to believe her
I’m still hoping we deliver
still hoping we sober enough to do it
still hoping we wise and clever enough to go through it
still hoping we realize we need much more than entertainers
‘cos when oil meets its nemesis in alternative fuel
we’ll need much more than booty shaking videos and meaningless songs to sustain us
Friends the onus rests upon us
so let our talking and our doings
rebuild the old ruins
for that is what the task is
And I’m still hoping my kids don’t get to see
These things I saw
don’t get to bear these pains I bore
In fellowship, with the masses

When the revolution spoke
Blind minds open
You can’t stop the word being spoken
When the revolution spoke
The comedians couldn't joke, even the rich felt broke
When the revolution spoke
They said it was treason
But couldn’t jail the rhyme without a reason
When the revolution spoke
One million youths marching
All in their path they’re smashing

   Widely regarded as one of Nigeria’s leading Spoken Word Poets, Efe Paul Azino has been a headline performer in many of the nation’s premier performance poetry venues, including Anthill 2.0 and Taruwa. For over a decade, Efe has continued to deliver Spoken Word Poetry locally and internationally, gracing platforms at seminars, workshops, conferences, tertiary institutions, community development fora, as well as churches.
    Reflecting the sufferings evident in numerous African societies and the hope that keeps them going, Efe Paul’s poems resonate with the high and the low, cutting across social and religious boundaries. His poems are centered on socio-economic and political themes and are enhanced by a strong voice, keeping his audiences entranced for the full length of his performances. 
    The voice of a generation, a seeker and speaker of truth, Efe Paul leads a generation of visionary poets in using the medium as a tool for social change.

Comments

  1. Efe Paul is d best poet in Nigeria. He knows how 2 weave d word! He came 2 my school once and left everyone speechless. He is 2 much!

    ReplyDelete

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