POEM:*****ECHOES OF DREAMS***** By Badiru Kehinde and Ademola Adedeji

Preview;

  Finally it's here.What you've waited patiently and anticipated
for.This is not one of those poem celebrating independence but a poem
of reasoning and awareness of where the nation still remains for the
past 5 decades...This is a poem of clamour for a better Nigeria,a
reawakening of those dreams of our heroes past that have become mere
echoes due to what you'll see in the poem.Its a poem of
renaissance.For your reading pleasure and sensitization...Enjoy!!!

Our dreams still echoes, though of dreams ,seeings unreal,
In visions of old ,a tale largly untold,
We are forever hoping of forever,,
You that may be, in a yonder shatter;
The belly is pregnant with beliefs and hopes,
yet but unseen by the midwives of old,
lies the glory we seek...
Woe to the good intentions and bad decision,
For our hopes and notions negate our reality(sation).

Here, a resounding sound of the drum beat,
This drum beat of dreams and feats to achieve,
...Mere echoes...of those heart desires,
Hindered by the 'Big Bellies' fliers.

The remnants of colonial rule...nationalists,
Whose struggles have been muted,
Our heroes past smiling in tears,
For their dreams that never became history.

Their dreams of unity,
shattered by the North-South bipolarity,
crippled by regional loyalty crisis cripple and love,
in Ethnicism we never sought to have.

As I gaze on the cloud of poverty,
 which gathering on the landform,
All drenched in the rain of illiteracy
and vices did pouring like virtues,
as And notions of education and knowledge fade off,
in the hopes of peace unborn in the womb of terrorism,
Death and destruction crossing the peoples path of individualism,,
Driving away the able agile actives neglecting from land cultivation,
As they set their admiration on Oil and petroleum dealings at the
prime of mind's admiration,
...Visions of food security as and yet masses feeding on to starve(ation).

This dream of food security,
With empty...Even the food basket...breeding  in pauperscity,
As we wear the tag: Agriculture is prime over Oil becoming just a name,
Yet Crude oil...attracts all the fame.

I see a democracy sulks up by Corruption
 eating deep roots of democracy,
Farmers cultivating lands for aristocracy,
Here I stand lonely on a tree and, pondering alone,
As I, watching as we sow the seed of underdevelopment,
Alas born by the child of selfishness and greed,
Largely nurtured depriving others access to the mother's milk.

Ours, The dream of democracy,
Overwhelmed by the joy of  'poketocracy',
With Comrades singing hymns
of embezzlement, an ode to a Swiss account...
At independence,our bulbs are without filaments.

The dream of security...more of nightmares,
Our stories unfolding in fear,
Boko haram...a tale of several forests,
Our Bring back our peace...mere hashtag test.!

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