SOCIAL LAMENT:" NIGERIA RISE FROM THE ASHES" BY THE PURPLE POET

Hello…

I'm Nigeria,

My people are suffocating under the weight of despair,

Like everything, EVERYTHING is shattered in the way,

When they call me the bouncing baby,

A queen with a head held high, no pain, not even a fly on her body,

But I grew up, Tired. Tired. TIRED.

Studying till my eyes blurred, 

working till my soul numbed,

Thinking I'd be employed to bring bread to the table.

I saw a brother, 

His dawn prayers cut short,

Armed robbers' bullets silenced his heartbeat,

Left his family with tears that won't dry,

Echoes of why haunting their nights.

A father, perched on a shaky wall,

Building someone else's dream while his kids starve,

Fell and nothing changed ,

Just more mouths to feed.

A mother, praying silently through the night,

Swept, scrubbed, and washed away by exhaustion's tide,

Her husband vanished, 

Responsibilities piled high,

Her shoulders is a fragile bridge, trembling under the weight.

I hoped day before yesterday would surpass yesterday,

But it worsened like a festering wound.

Today's pain deeper, the ache more cruel,

And stakeholders ask,How are you?

As if they'd notice us for once.

Our heroes gone…

please hear our plea…

For we are struggling in this country called Nigeria,

We're tired, but surrender isn't an option.

How long must we crawl before we rise? 

© THe PURPLE POET✍️💜🥰

- Nigeria 

Nigeria cries beneath the weight of broken promises. Her people bleed hope, yet refuse to surrender. From ashes, a weary nation still dares to rise.