Today makes it 20 years,
Since your land was pillaged
And your soil, was soaked in blood
Cries were heard from afar,
The shrieks were deafening,
Piercing sounds of gunshots,
Fear ravaged the town,
And death casted its shroud
It was a day never to be forgotten
For the winding ways were deserted
And the highways were avoided
In a split second,
You became a shadow of yourself
Your mountains stood tall,
Your weather was soothing
Your produce was the best
Your homes were safe,
Your songs were those of joy
Your night was as day
For we felt safe
And we left our doors opened
We told tales by moonlight,
With the children sitting outside
Alas today, ’tis no more;
But like a phoenix, you will rise
And your glory shall come back
It shall burst forth like a spring
And flow into your streets;
It shall cleanse the blood off your soil
And wash away the dust off your people’s heads
But till then,
O Land of Peace and Tourism,
We shall hold hands together
And fight for justice and righteousness;
We shall pray and have faith,
And hope and trust in God…

(c) Chukwudi I.

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