Blood on the Plateau


I wrote this poem in April last year. I share it again as we grieve with our compatriots in Jos.


The bullets fly with loosened fury

Killings fields all soaked in blood that fail to cease

Horror and fear have overthrown tranquility

Once upon a city so calm and cold

Arrows and spears now piercing through flesh

Knives and machetes felling beings

With screams and wails to deter

But in the end they are only personal dirges

Of souls about to depart

Burning homes and all they possess

Roasting flesh like movies from dracula

Potatoes have risen from the dead

Men, women and children have taken their place

As they drench the mounds and ridges in red

And oh Terminus is gone; poor relic of her days

Her flaming brains and bones were burned

Reduced to rubbles

Now home to birds and weed

The echoes come back in her bowel

Before you shut your mouth in disbelief

Once upon ‘time and town

The hazy morns did crown her rocks

And her soothing breeze caressing skins

Of all the beings that made her home

And succor in her womb she did bestow

Shere Hills, Rayfield, Jos zoo, amusement park et al

Our memories do hold and surely bind

The rocks keep their gaze and fountains gush

The springs of love now gush with blood

The rains do come but wash them not

Home of peace from whom everyone flees


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