Literature

By Bilyaminu Abdulmumini

One of the four books I read in 2023 was They Called Me A Lioness, which I read courtesy of Dr Muhsin Ibrahim, who shared the soft copy. The book’s true-life storytelling and the author’s command of the English language captivated me, keeping me glued to its pages.

Ahed Tamimi, the book’s narrator (written by Dena Takruri), was born and raised in the village of Nabi Saleh, northwest of Ramallah, a city known for its flashes in the Israel-Palestine conflict in the West Bank. Nabi Saleh gained notoriety for its resistance system, characterised by coordinated processions that garnered local and international attention every Friday. Journalists, sympathisers, and NGOs witness these Friday processions. Nabi Saleh vehemently opposed the Israeli occupation (I reserved the history and Israeli occupation saga to another article).

While the protests in Nabi Saleh were generally considered peaceful, occasional outbreaks of violence were not unheard of, though they were one-sided. While Palestinians employed stones, the Israeli soldiers were armed with superior weapons such as water cannons, tear gas, rubber-coated steel bullets, and sometimes even live ammunition.

Amid these sporadic instances of violence, Ahed would witness her mother being shot in the leg by a soldier, her younger brother pinned to the ground by another soldier, her favourite uncle bleeding to death, night raids, and the repeated arrest and imprisonment of her father.

To say that this series of events paved the way for Ahed’s transformation into a brave individual, as her nickname implies, would be an understatement. Ahed’s courageous resistance and fearless confrontations with Israeli soldiers earned her both local and international acclaim.

Tamimi first gained international recognition when she was just a child, under the age of 10, for confronting Israeli soldiers who had abducted her brother. This confrontation, captured on film, went viral, captivating people worldwide. She was seen as a symbol of the bravery of Palestinian children and the spirit of their resistance against the Israeli occupation. Early during the Ukraine-Russia war, the video resurfaced, and the usual social media misinformation circulated it to be a Ukraine child protesting against Russian inversion.

Tamimi’s next international spotlight was intriguing. She engaged in a confrontation with soldiers to prevent them from arresting an Israeli, Miko Peled. Few expected this turn of events. Miko is the son of the famous Israeli general Mattityahu Peled, a celebrated hero who fought in the 1967 war on the side of Israel. However, he later retired from the army and became a tireless peace activist, advocating for Israel’s withdrawal from the occupied territories. 

The last straw that broke the camel’s back was when Tamimi lost her temper and slapped a uniformed, armed Israeli soldier. As expected, this action went viral, leading the Israeli authorities to imprison her for eight months. A prison, even run by one’s country of citizens, might be full of provocations, rights abuses, and infringement, let alone a prison run by an arch-rival. Tamimi and many Palestinians who got under the net of Israel had to endure a series of incarcerations. 

Ironically, imprisonment is one of the most successful ways to achieve fame and knowledge. While someone may be imprisoned as a deterrent, it can inadvertently lead to greater recognition and public sympathy, drawing attention to their cause. The same happened to Tamimi; her imprisonment further elevated her fame and the cause she advocated for. In Nigeria, imprisonment got sympathy from both former presidents Muhammadu Buhari and Olusegun Obasanjo; the former Ghanaian president, Jerry Rawlings, would change the course of history from a death sentence to being a president; and in this regard, no one remained fresh in the memory like Nelson Mandela.

Beyond fame, Tamimi, alongside her mother, who was also incarcerated, completed her high school education. This accomplishment was particularly telling in the mother’s case because she had been unable to complete her education since her marriage. This fact resonates well with Nigerian correctional service centres where many inmates complete online degrees, which, of course, like Tamimi’s Mother, might not achieve the feat without imprisonment. 

Last month, a Turkey legislator slumped in a chamber (and died later in hospital), challenging the president’s seeming “accomplices”. Excerpt from the opposition legislator to Tayyip Erdogan: “You allow ships to go to Israel, and you shamelessly call it trade. … You are Israel’s accomplice”. This reminded me of the Tamimi encounter with Erdogan. 

While Tamimi was visiting Turkey to receive the Handala Courage Award, Erdogan sought an audience with her. In their meeting, he would express how much he loved Palestine, indicating that Turkey would always support the Palestinian people. In response, the iron lady, who never minced words, threw a hammer directly in the face, “How can you say you love us when we have to enter your country with a visa, but Israelis can travel here with no visa?” Erdogan became speechless.

Bilyamin Abdulmumin is a doctoral researcher in chemical engineering at ABU Zaria.

By Sa’id Sa’ad

In 2021, I sat at Arewa House. I listened to Late Ummaru Danjuma (Kasagi) thunder – in his old throaty yet commanding voice – bitterly about how Hausa culture and stories have diluted over the years. His face, though saddened, lit by fluorescence – old, yet much alive – spread goosebumps throughout the room, reawakening all the murdered tales back to life. No one would think that that command births the reawakening of not just Hausa culture, stories, and language but northern Nigeria’s stories.

That was the maiden edition of the Hausa International Book and Arts Festival (HIBAF)—a time when literary festivals have suffered lashes of COVID-19. Literary enthusiasts, writers and journalists were once again full of life to reconnect. While some see it as a promising beginning for a new Jaipur Literature Festival of Northern Nigeria, a lot thought it was just a naming ceremony of yet another Nigerian literary festival that will soon wither due to shrinking funds.

Hausa or northern Nigeria literature – before now – couldn’t afford itself a “consistent” arts festival that solely promotes and celebrates its artistry, culture, and stories until the advent of HIBAF. However, there were several one-off attempts previously, but mostly political. One might argue that festivals like Kaduna Book and Arts Festival (KABAFEST) have blanketed the same purpose. Still, I would differ because KABAFEST is an international festival bringing international guests with national stories to a northern city. KABAFEST is – or now probably was – an arts festival “in” northern Nigeria, while HIBAF is an arts festival “for” northern Nigeria. This is not a dismissal of the influence KABAFEST had on northern Nigeria. It would be stupid to dismiss that.

However, as the region continues to suffer stereotypes about its literary prowess, HIBAF could stand on the edge of liberating northern Nigeria from such an ugly view. Perhaps the birth of what can be predicted today is the conscious reawakening of northern stories.

For a young festival with such an ambitious name, the question is: Is HIBAF only representative of the Hausa people or northern Nigeria?

It is easy to assume that HIBAF solely represents Hausas and their stories, especially for those who view them from the outside. This is mainly because, unlike other art festivals in Nigeria and around the world founded to represent a geographical entity, such as Lagos Book and Arts Festival, HIBAF is one of few whose nomenclature represents a tribe. In previous seasons, the festival granted conversations in the English Language; therefore, that says a lot about HIBAF going beyond Hausa “alone” in its programming, which I find healthy.

It would be great if HIBAF were only for Nigerian Hausas. It is okay if it is for Hausas globally. But it will be graciously honourary if HIBAF is for northern Nigeria in general. The value of this ambitious festival is in its capacity to reconnect Hausas and Hausa cultures with cultures around it through diversifying into introducing tribes that have existed with Hausas, such as Fulani, Nupe, Tiv, Igala and other northern tribes to its programming. This will mean Hausas and communities of non-Hausas in Hausa communities could re-share a space in arts and shape a positive narrative of the region in terms of collective literary and artistic prowess. This will create a unified northern story(ies).

Another issue that can’t be dismissed is the problem of northern consciousness – this time, refusal – to appreciate northern initiatives. It is a similar case for HIBAF. It is seldom difficult to see a representation of famous northern personalities – especially from Kannywood and music sub-sectors, aside from a few interested in literature such as Aminu Ala or Ado Gidan Dabino. Most hardly care. This does not mean that such personalities – who don’t care – will decline invitations from similar festivals in other parts of Nigeria. They certainly will accept. Now, the question of the “potentiality” of the festival in creating “value” and “shaping northern stories” has everything to do with bringing people of value, not just in literature but from other art sub-sectors such as Kannywood and Hausa music space into its fold.

Knowingly or unknowingly, the Kannywood industry needs more fora this time than ever. Imagine Ali Nuhu, Rahama Sadau, Fauziya D. Sulaiman and Salisu Balarabe on a panel to discuss how northern creative writers could get their – more well-written stories – to Kannywood screens. This panel can pave the way for collaboration that could place both the creative writing and Kannywood film industries decades ahead—a potential both industries share.

With its ambiguous programming nature of inculcating cultural programmes, the festival could give life to northern cultural heritages on the verge of fading with the recent digital revolution. It will be fascinating to see HIBAF Durba, HIBAF Tashe, HIBAF Dambe, Dandalin HIBAF, HIBAF Mawakan Gargajiya and other numerous HIBAF’s all-year-round that could bring back the northern cultural heritages while also Including non-Hausa cultural programme. Again, this creates unified northern cultural narratives.

This year’s HIBAF, in its third year of awesomeness and vibrancy – though still wounded by honest negative feedback from the second season – is bringing diasporic faces back home. Simply put, ‘going international with locals, and for locals.’ Such a breed can give life to a new dimension of cross-geographical collaboration between northern storytellers in the diaspora and Nigeria—a remarkable feat to a tremendous progressive bond.

While the festival, through its host organization, is becoming a spot for learning and sharpening creative and artistic mastery through workshops and seminars, it depicts how it can create a birthplace of yet new sets of Abubakar Imams and Zaynab Alkalis who would live to tell the stories. But this can also be limited if the focus is Hausa and literature alone as, thus, expansion both in language and sub-sector is where the growing inclusive value lies.

From pages of novelists to the rhymes of poets, from scenes of playwrights to screens of filmmakers, from the vocals of singers to the lyrics of songwriters, from the colours of culture to the lens of photographers, from northeast to northwest and northcentral, HIBAF could cook a recipe of blended stories – of all that have been around Hausa – to a valuable northern unified story.

Though all these are a long walk to a new revolution for northern Nigeria’s stories, it can place HIBAF at a point of liberating the region and demolishing its stereotypes.

Sa’id Sa’ad is a Nigerian writer, playwright and journalist from Maiduguri. He won the Peace Panel Short Story Prize 2018 and the NFC Essay Prize 2018. He writes from Bonn, Germany. He can be reached directly at saidsaadabubakar@gmail.com

Author: Vincent Hiribarren

Date of Publication: 2017

Number of pages: 310

Publisher: Hurst & Company, London

If you knew very little about the territorial framework of the Borno empire before now, then reading this book might likely shatter some previously held notions about the region. Borno has, in recent years, notoriously gained renewed academic attention as a result of the Boko Haram insurgency. Spoiler alert: this book isn’t about the origin of Kanuri or other inhabitants.

Although the Borno empire found its roots in the 8th century, this book covered only the past 200 years of the kingdom’s existence. Therefore, the 8 chapters of the book started at the beginning of the 19th century down to around 2014 when the research for its publication was concluded. The author seemed very mindful of the political significance of the Borno empire following the Fulani jihad, even if the invasion had a different outcome, but that’s another topic entirely.

The earlier section of the book highlighted the spatial continuity of the territorial framework of Borno, which argued that fairly stable structural borders existed well before colonial times. This was a pivotal juncture, as discussed later in the book, for the ‘scramble for Borno’, where the 19th-century spatial frameworks were used to legitimise conquest by foreign invaders. It proved important even in the European colonial competition against each other.

Later on, the book explored how, essentially, the British and the Germans recycled the Borno region within their colonial spatial framework with an additional detailed perspective of the Indirect rule. It didn’t stop there, it goes on to analyse how, in reality, the colonial administration of Borno during the early colonial period played a decisive role in the preservation of its territorial continuity.

Navigating this book, you need to have an incredible tolerance for some nitty gritty details. The writing style is aggressively academic, and it is filled with flayed raw materials to inspire further reading. It is definitely not a very easy-to-read book but rather a slice of rock-hard brain playground! It’s very clear that the author is a cartography freak.

The book itself must have been inspired by the thesis undertaken by the author while pursuing a PhD at the University of Leeds in the UK with the title “From a Kingdom to a Nigerian State: the Territory and Boundaries of Borno 1810-2010”. The author teaches African History at King’s College London.

Dr Shamsuddeen Sani wrote from Kano, Nigeria.

By Dr Shamsuddeen Sani

It is easy for the narrative about Uyghur Muslims of China to draw your attention due to the fierce East-West political drama about them. Before now, I had no clue of the profound complexity inherent in the history of Islam in Muslim northwest China.

Jonathan N. Lipman skilfully avoids the more sensitive politico-religious aspects, as he aptly puts it, making it not a book about the history of the Muslims in northwest China but a comprehensive account of the history of Muslims living in northwest China.

This book offers a critical analysis of the origins of Islam in northwest China, the evolution of Muslim identity and culture in the region, and their intricate connections within the broader context of greater China. This examination spans six comprehensive chapters and incorporates both pre and postmodern contextual perspectives.

Following an elaborate introduction that combines geography and ethnography in northwest China, Lipman offers an extensive overview that spans nearly a millennium, encompassing the entire cultural landscape of China. He achieves this by positioning Muslims as unique elements within the familiar historical context of China from the Tang dynasty through the Ming dynasty.

After the Qing conquest of the 1640s, he investigated specific solidarities among Chinese Muslims and their leaders. Additionally, he examines the development of Sufism in northwestern China and the integral role played by the Shuyuks and Tariqa in the region’s social fabric. By the mid-18th century, as the book highlights, Sufi orders had already ignited a significant drive towards political activism, community cohesion, and horizontal competition.

Coming to the early 19th century, Lipman looks into the era marked by the transition from the Qing Empire to the Chinese nation-state. He explores the intricate processes of change, driven by internal factors and influences originating from Europe, America, and the Muslim world, which swept across the outskirts of China. These forces compelled individuals to make decisions under unfamiliar and challenging circumstances. The book took a tangent to meticulously analyse four key Sino-Muslim figures who embarked on distinct yet equally complex journeys towards finding common ground with a modernised China.

This book is not an easy read, given the unfamiliar names one must remember, but it is worth every minute of your time.

Dr Shamsuddeen Sani wrote from Kano, Nigeria.

By Muhammad Aliyu Gombe

The Centre for Reading, Research and Development (NCRRD) Bayero University Kano, Nigeria, has organized its Fourth National Conference on the promotion of reading culture among students and researchers. The event which took place at Ɗangote Business School, New Site, (BUK) was a 5 day even which included a Pre-Conference Workshop which aims at sensitizing the participants on the new methods of improving teaching especially from the basic level. The theme of the conference reads ‘Children’s Books and The Teaching of Early Grade Reading in Nigeria.’

The Director of the Centre Professor Talatu Musa Garba, during her speech, says that, as part of the mandate, of the Centre, it “had instituted the annual conference in 2019 to provide a platform for teachers, researchers and other educationists to share ideas on the best practices for the promotion of teaching of reading in Nigeria.” The Director, together with the Vice Chancellor of the University, Professor Sagir Adamu Abbas, commissioned the Centre’s resource room which is named Rebecca Rhodes Resource Room. The room has a modest collection of books and e-resources. It is open to researchers, teachers and students as a reference library.

It has been noted by various participants during the occasion that reading culture is past dying not only in Nigeria but across the globe. There is a huge need to revive it through practical methodologies which will guarantee and assist young readers to be taken right from the tender age.

Some of the participants, especially students and other invited guests, showed their appreciation and happiness with these gigantic efforts which the center is putting to revive reading culture in Nigeria.

By Prof. Abdalla Uba Adamu

The painting evoked memories. And a sense of scholastic pride. Pride in being part of a process that has generated centuries of excellence. And today is Teacher’s Day, a case for celebration of scholarship from below. Even Google’s Doodle for the day acknowledges this.

Years ago, a painting was brought to me to purchase by an artist, Nura Yusuf – the artist being aware I am an art nut. It was a medium-sized canvas and truly beautiful in a photorealistic way. My Ajamization of Knowledge initiative inspired him. But there was no way I could afford the price he was asking, even if I accepted that it was a fair price. I asked his permission, though, to photograph it with my Sony DSC.

I eventually saw the canvas hanging in the outer waiting room of the Emir of Kano’s main reception chamber. Regretfully, you will only notice it if you swing your head up. I think, eventually, it was relocated.

Looking at the painting, as I said, evoked memories of Makarantar Malam Hussaini, Mandawari. Now renamed Makarantar Malam Buhari and reinvented as an Islamiyya school, along Sabon Titi, in the inner city of Kano. In the school, when Malam Hussaini was the Head, you left early if you reported early; otherwise, you stayed behind after the school closed to continue your studies.

Memories of going from house to house, requesting the good folks to allow us to brush their cooking pots with our bare hands, seeking the fine soot that covers the pots, the result of open-fire cooking with logs of wood. Once you gather enough powdered soot, you then dunk your hand in a bowl of water and wash the soot off. Next, you sprinkle a few crystals of gum Arabic in the water and boil the lot – effectively creating a syrupy ink, the classical ‘tawada’. While burnt wood from home cooking fires can do the job, the elite of Tsangaya inks is ‘zuge’, a burnt desert-date tree. The ink itself is often mixed in various colours, depending on its use in copying the Qur’an. These colours come in handy, especially on the graduating certificate – allo – when it is decorated with zayyana calligraphic designs. A whole industry has existed around this trade for years, especially in the heart of the city of Kano, northern Nigeria.

To make a pen, you need a thick dry stalk – gamba – from the grass used for fencing (zana) homes in rural areas. Using a Tiger razor blade (not Nacet, as it easily breaks), you sharpen the edge of the stalk and fashion a neat nib, creating an alƙalami — pen. There were many styles for the nib, depending on the writing to be done. For some, the alƙalami can be a true calligraphic tool.

Properly armed with a pen and ink, you begin the process of carefully copying the verses of the Qur’an, according to your grade, onto the wooden slate until you copy the right passages. You lean it against the wall for it to dry and await your turn to read what you copied by the teacher. Once properly groomed on the reading, off you go to practice reciting on your own.

Once you feel you are proficient enough, you go back to the teacher, read your passages and once satisfied with your diction, and cadence, you are permitted to go to the next passages – wash off the present one – wanke allo – and copy the next sequence. Due to the dark colour of the ink, the wooden slate often absorbs the ink and darkens the slate. The best way to get rid of it is to use sandpaper to scrape it completely – or, failing that due to cost, rice bran – ɓuntu – which works just as well – to remove traces of the previous ink. If the smudges or shadows of the ink still remain, you can use powdered limestone – farar ƙasa – to overlay the darker stain of the ink, giving a clean white surface on which to write.

Ink is kept in a pot, kurtun tawada, while the pens are kept in a pen holder, ƙorami/alkurdu. For adolescents starting up, it was the wooden slate. For the more advanced students, the writing is done on conqueror bond paper (usually imported from North Africa), but the pen is now a quill from the tail or wing feathers of a bird (chicken, duck, guinea fowl).

And in case one gets thirsty doing all that hard work, you can always quench your thirst from the water stored in your water bottle – jallo, made from a gourd. This type of water bottle enters into the Hausa lexicon with the expression: “ina neman sa kamar ruwa a jallo/desperately looking for him.”

This scholastic tradition is well-preserved in this painting by Nura Yusuf, who incidentally happened to be a brother to the writer and poet Khalid Imam. Being Teachers Day today, I dedicate this painting to all Alarammomi, Gardawa, and Ƙolawa, who are my fellow classmates in every Tsangaya in this country. We pray for the souls of our Malaman Tsangaya, who set us on the right path. Allah Ya jiƙansu da Rahama.

A fool I was,

To believe we shared something.

I had never felt so broken before,

Not even when my last left me.

I should have learned my lesson then,

But NO!!

I believed you were better than that.

Now, it’s all plain in sight,

Directly in my face 

I can’t deny the obvious truth anymore.

Your betrayal hurt like hell,

The thought of our “forever deal” breaking off 

Keeps turning me mad,

I seem to be losing control……

I know this is me 

not letting go of the shattered dreams,

But if this is truly a dream,

Wake me up to reality 

I don’t think I can survive this pain.

©Ink of Emotions 

By Prof. Abdalla Uba Adamu

I was never lucky enough to come under Yusuf Bala Usman’s tutelage while I was a student at Ahmadu Bello University Zaria, Nigeria, from 1976 to 1979. Being a student in the Faculty of Education, I missed out on having to take lectures in the famous FASS – Faculty of Arts and Social Sciences, undoubtedly, the hotbed of critical theories in the 1970s.

Yusufu Bala Usman, Ibrahim Tahir, Patrick Wilmot, and Mahmoud Tukur enlivened the university with their rhetoric about culture, history, polity and anthropology. My roommate was a History student, so I gleaned a lot from him about the critical theories flying about on the campus. Those years were indeed the intellectual years of ABU. Every subsequent northern radical traces his roots to that era and its critical reflection on Nigerian society.

As M.M. Gwadabe noted in his obituary to Yusufu Bala Usman, published in Africa: Journal of the International African Institute, 2010, 80(1): 165-168.

The contributions of Bala Usman lie not only in the number of papers he has written or the publications he has left for posterity. He spearheaded the establishment of a school of thinking quite distinct from the perception of history that used to be prevalent in Nigeria before the 1970s. Before him, history was generally understood and taught within the paradigm of colonial historiography. The efforts of Bala Usman and some of his colleagues in the department liberated history teaching as they masterminded the establishment and nurturing of the School of African historiography at Ahmadu Bello University, Zaria (ABU).

And in spite of his towering intellectualism, he remained humbled by the very scholarship he served. As Gwadabe further informs us:

“In 1985, the authorities of Ahmadu Bello University, considering Dr Usman’s contribution to knowledge, promoted him to the rank of a Professor. Humble as he was, Dr Usman turned down the promotion on the ground that ‘he was not convinced that he had done enough to be a Professor’. While he was without [a] doubt qualified for the promotion, his action was an attempt to show his displeasure with the way promotions to the rank of professorship were politicized and abused. So, Dr Usman died with the rank of a Reader.”

Now compare this towering inferno of intellectualism with our intellectuals today – who, based on some newspaper and junk journal publications, proudly present themselves as professors – when no one has ever read their works or become impacted by their expected contribution to knowledge.

Yusufu Bala Usman passed away at 60 years old in 2005, relatively still in his prime. His thoughts and ideas, however, live on through the Yusufu Bala Usman Institute in Zaria. To refresh our memories about his fiery and critical writing, the Institute, on 23rd September 2023, released a compendium of his lectures that captured the years of engagement as a leading Nigerian historian, political activist and public intellectual, mainly from 1972 to his death, in 2005. The book, The Historian and Society: Selected Historical Writings of Yusufu Bala Usman, was edited by George Ama Kwanashie and Normal Perchonock. It provides a handy introduction to the thoughts of Yusufu Bala Usman for those who only heard about him. Going through the 12 chapters of the book would convince you that with his death, northern Nigeria has lost a formidable voice in contemporary critical theory.

The book is now available as a physical copy. There is a website for the Institute where you can order the book at 3,500 NGN.

By Abdurrazak Muktar Makarfi

A friend approached me, expressing his desire to write but unable to do so effectively. I promised to help him by sharing valuable tips on writing. These insights shouldn’t be kept to ourselves; they have the potential to inspire others too. Therefore, I’m eager to share them with the public, hoping to ignite creativity and passion in aspiring writers and touch hearts with the transformative power of words.

As promised, below are some tips that will help you on your writing journey.

Immerse yourself in the vast ocean of literature: Envelop your mind with the profound wisdom and eloquence of renowned authors. By delving into diverse literary works, you’ll embrace the artistry of language and discover the nuanced dance of words.

Forge a formidable foundation: Master the enchanting symphony of grammar, sentence structure, and punctuation. As the conductor of your prose, a firm grasp of these elements orchestrates a harmonious cadence that bewitches your readers.

Grace your prose with seamless transitions: Like silk threads weaving an intricate tapestry, the subtle interplay of transition words guides your readers effortlessly from one idea to the next. From “however” painting a brilliant contrast to “therefore” forging unyielding connections, your writing becomes a journey of revelation.

Dance with diversity in sentence structures: Allow the rhythm of your writing to undulate, embracing the grand waltz of varied sentence structures. From the tango of concise thoughts to the waltz of eloquent expression, each step captivates your readers’ hearts.

Paint a vivid tapestry with your words: Unleash the kaleidoscope of language, and adorn your prose with dazzling colours of description. Pluck the most resplendent words from your lexicon, imbuing each sentence with life, depth, and vividness.

Polish your masterpiece with an artisan’s eye: Like a sculptor refining a statue, meticulously chisel away any superfluous words or pedestrian phrases. Carve your prose into a masterpiece where every word finds its rightful place and the allure of elegance abounds.

Let the quill dance upon the parchment: Embrace the alchemy of creativity by transmuting thoughts into written gems. Through regular writing rituals, unleash your inner wordsmith, painting the canvas of expression with artistic zeal.

May these stylistic incantations lend wings to your writing, elevating it to new heights of artistic brilliance and captivating the hearts and minds of those who partake in the splendour of your words.

The world is liveable

But this land is terrible

Releasing orders without sympathy

Where’s your instinct of empathy?

Abrupt removal of subsidy

Things loose out of custody

Prices go rocket higher

Traders nap having no buyer

We can’t secure aliments

Nor can we cure ailments

Schools have been deserted

After the increment exerted

Compatriots hover without refuge

Nobody can afford a mortgage

Even the fittest can’t survive

We’re not but corpses alive!

Vanguards of liberation

Become gladiators of domination

Not only a rare golden opportunity,

Seat is heavy responsibility!

– By Hashimu M Bala