We should not deny that we do not know
how the giant wall of fame fell.
After all, we all feigned to be blind
when the bull came to scratch its itching
body diminishing the wall before the falling.
Or didn’t we all fold our arms
when Bọ́dẹdé exercised
his hunting skills of shooting arrow
through the wall?
We all pay no mind when the price for our lives
were paid to the fake men in helmets and heavy boots that built our bridges with slabs and weak planks.
Who among us challenged the authorities
that laid the ambush that brought down our wall of fame?
Did we not laugh it off when we saw
how our drainage was eroded
the day it was channeled with porous sand
of no aggregate cement?
And when the wall was falling,
we all heard the cackling of the bricks
And how time threw stones
to inform the falling wall
No one thought it’s an hint of losing our pride.
We could not decipher the near end.
Now that the giant wall has fallen,
so demolished that human lives scattered
in the sharp forest of low hope, and blur dream;
nothing exists on this land except the flashback
of a once great fortress that stand no more.
Who among us has the freedom to blame
the hands or tables that staked our lives
in turn for foreign cards?
If I may talk,
I would say, we all made it fell.
No one is free to blame anyone
We all nourished what brought us to this shame!