For Those Boys Who Were Aborted

July 20, 2018 Opinion , OPINION/NEWS , OTHER

By

John Chizoba Vincent

This dream fell from my eyes last night when I tried to find a related body to passionately tell all that I have been through, but could not. This dream was the light of my skin but fairer was the colour of its miseries.

Coming home is a tribulation you should never dream of. Home is an endless nightmare. Maybe that was why she drank the pills, maybe that was why she thought living in heaven was better than here.

Our land is an endless nightmare. You should not bother to come again because mother was right about what she saw. But blame her for conceiving you beforehand.

Of a dream, we must visit tomorrow and know what lies in stock for you. Build yourself and keep adding value beyond maybe; you may be the saviour to this side of the world. Martin Luther was struck burning his struggles into flames, a star he became after many failures.

Stay strong boys. Stay like a magic trick between shadow and oblivion. You will come, but we are working endlessly to make sure that Nigeria remains a home for you when you come. Not a place where cows are valued more than you.

Ask those people that were butchered in Enugu and those people that were slaughtered in Plateau when you see them. You will understand how horrible this land is for your kind. Through this epistle, I must tell you to remain calm till this storm is over, then you will come to see us.

Nigeria is a dilemma of survival, a climax of betrayal and mixture of sorrow and joy. Sometimes, we lose our compassion and other times we gain it in corruption. It is my business to see that you come in peace not in pieces. It is my duty that everything that concerns you is taken care of. It is my business to uphold you into this space where the blood of a cow speaks better things than that of humans.

Our lips strike faster so sound soars in high places to hurt us in the classroom of faith. Stay strong, beautiful ones. Every good thing will come to you. Everything good will come from this drum we beat drastically into their ears. Everything good will come when you keep learning how to stay strong and not complain to the ancestors of abandonment.

The chaos between pains are the messages. If we don’t create the change then we stay where we are. We’ve got to start moving or never move. Moments are not scared to die like humans. Heroes are reborn not to make the same mistake that was made by their forbearers.

Don’t be angry with your mother or the man who made the mixture. He must have had a reason why you had to remain there to ease out some circumstances. Love does not exist here but hatred for the honour gathered before us.

I am not afraid to tell you the truth about our land unfolding into mysterious misery, about yesterday’s doubt that was harboured in our hearts. We thought we were not old enough to bear children, we thought we were not old enough to cater for children like you that was why we had to take you away. Nigeria is not a better home to come to. It is a mixture of tears and emotions flowing through the coast of the ocean.

Be scared of death. Hold yourself up before coming. Teaching our fingers how to hold the breeze of our bravery remains the ultimate of them all. I am not afraid to hold together freely of the tears from my eyes. Hold in that celestial country where champions and stars never begged to shine. Hold on I’m not the kind that would leave you behind.

Be the champion we all want to have. To live is to die and to die is to live. Nothing is given freely, for hope is built within Mandela’s eyes fighting freedom like Kunta. Keep away from your present state for you are not alone anymore. Fate has handsome hands for more.

Be free till freedom seekers seek freedom. Be the courage you need in times when all back off and there is no shoulder to lean on; even brave hearts never fight to the end. You are your own script, write your life to fortune. Keep on meditating on these words till we meet again.