My Father’s War
2December 29, 2014 by Kambili M.A. Chimalu
A country split by the chasm of warring ideologies
Blasts of mayhem and a pyramid of bodies up North
A seething and bubbling inward rebellion down South
Mold the image of a country past
Razed to ashes by the fuel of our fathers’ blood
And like a phoenix reborn
Births a country from our fathers’ bones and ashes
Therefore, I will not fight my fathers’ war.
Young men bound by the chains of religious convictions
Young women weighted by the bricks of cultural ideology
Echoes of indoctrination by masters unseen
Oh! The hot flames of young blood
Reminiscent of that which flowed in the veins of the young past
Ready to spill the blood of their brothers
To quench the undeniable thirst of vengeance
And to lay claim to the country birthed by fathers past
But, I will not fight my fathers’ war.
The young ears that refuse to hear
The agonies of mothers past drowned by the drums of war
The echoes from deep beneath the earth of once young men
The young eyes refuse to behold
The rivers of blood fed by the drained bodies of our fathers
The young chant to the beats of war
That sing the tales of young men past
Of their resolute will to fight for country and land
Country and land that was, but never was
No! I will not fight my fathers’ war.
Suckling babes snatched from the bosom of mothers
Marched to the roars of feverish war songs
Never to bask in a mother’s embrace
Babies turned to war tanks before they are children
Their roots uprooted before their seeds are planted
Generations buried in the rubble of the old country
And forgotten in the halls of the new country
I will not fight my fathers’ war.
The war of a divided country that was has come and gone
lost
I will fight my own war
A war that electrifies every house
Gushing like an everflowing spring from every tap
Drumming the song of freewill into the conscious of the young
Dancing through the halls of innovation
Ringing the bells of transparency from the house of legislature
This is my war
The birth of boundless opportunities for the young
For posterity
I will not fight my fathers’ war.
Our fathers’ wars have become our wars –
Biafra and its aftermath…can we honestly say that it’s unfinished? The spilled blood, in which you speak of, crying out like the blood of Abel; blood shed but not justified; vindicated?
You’ve encapsulated the story of our nation in those verses, Kambili, Arinze gi!
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The thing is that we always want to be better than our parents. They say those who are ignorant of history are doomed to repeat its mistakes, but it looks like some Nigerians keep repeating the same mistakes over and over and over and over again despite being aware of our history.
Daalu nwannem.
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