Of Dirt, Dearth and Death
I am one with white apparel
My black body is clear, crystal clear
But they say I’m riddled with dirt
In the times before
My kind have come and gone
And they sure had all kinds of dirt
They fail to see I am different
They fail to give me a chance.
Men like me are rare these days
I stand for virtues of honest and right
Everyone wants to make a quick box. Hit the bank
The honest road is damn too long for that.
“You have to be smart cunning, this is Naija”
Men like me are scarce these days.
And we are a dying breed
We are told our times have gone past
Welcome to the new age
“Honesty and right would get you nowhere my friend”
“Play smart cunning my friend”
Perhaps I should listen to them
We would all die someday
Then we would know.
Of Dirt, Death and Dearth.