By Sumaila Umaisha
It is the era of empty voices
full of forms and nothing
the hall of silence
loud, unclear
– the same period that a hiss in privacy
could hit the marketplace
like the gong of a town crier
– the age when a careless wind
from an innocent opening could upset
the oceans, annihilating the entire species
we are in the days of coat-cutting
measures that leave us naked, leaning on the last lap of life
the very season
a single stroke of the pen fills Ghana-must-go many folds
it is the period of giving and giving
we gave our all and became patriots,
comrades and nothing, and nothing
the era of paths parting into crossroads
stoking the fire of hell smouldering
in the anger of pains
yes, it is the rage of bows, bombs, bombastic silence
deaf-dumb…
the mind in bloody peace.
* Umaisha is an Abuja-based public servant
