Our government does not listen. Our politicians have cleptomaniac gluttony.
They spray bricks of dollars at the innumerable birthday parties they conjure.
Dollars from our oil funds and treasury, meant to build us roads and hospitals.
Our roads are craters, roller coasters, turbulent high seas.
Hospitals are sharks swallowing patients without chewing.
We started fleeing home a person at a time.
We’ve been fleeing home for a long time.
Our government does not listen. Our politicians have cleptomaniac gluttony.
Our people are spread over oceans. Stuck between devils and deep blue seas.
1987, my aunt ran from home to Europe, searching for greener pastures.
1995, ten of my doctor cousins left for Kuwait, anything but home.
2010, ten of my friends left for the States, swearing never to come back.
We started fleeing home a person at a time.
We’ve been fleeing home for a long time.
Our government does not listen. Our politicians have cleptomaniac gluttony.
They loot our treasury. Eat up our reserves. Infringe our rights. Insult our intelligence.
Open fire on our freedom fighters. Brain drain our country. Embarrass the hell out of us.
Oh-mine-they-embarrass-the-hell-out-of-us.
Home is a carcass. A shadow of a story that was. A glory of past ages.
Home is a rut. Home is a trap. We too must run. The gates are closing.
We started fleeing home a person at a time.
We’ve been fleeing home for a long time.
About The Writer
Jumoke Eniola-Odepe writes mostly about African narratives and speaks healing to people of African descent. She is passionate about innovation in Africa and believes that innovative thinking is key to transformational change in the continent. You can find her online at https://www.activepens.com
