Speak not of Justice
Let no man tell me
Of justice;
These regions, these places
Where tyranny
Bestrides the narrow country
Like a colossus;
While we, petty people,
The measly minority
Meander it’s mighty feet
With palpitating hearts
Let no man tell me
Of justice;
These regions, these places
Where the government
Into a prowling predator
Has transformed;
While we, the pillaged populace
As the priceless prey,
Must be mercilessly massacred
By this marauding beast
Let no man tell me
Of justice;
This region, these places
That are far
From guiltless, bloodstained;
Where oppression waves
It’s violent wand
With gruesome glee
Across the face of the Land
Let no man tell me
Of justice;
These regions, these places
Where the voice
The mouthpiece of the minority,
Is ruthlessly strangled
By oppressive machinators
Operating through a process
Of programmed legality
Let no man tell me
Of justice;
These regions, these places
Where oil still must rush,
Blood still must flow
And tears still must fall
In ceaseless droplets
To the painful end
Let no man tell me
Of justice;
Let every man
Await the hour
When the haunting silence
Of this injustice
Shall be far more powerful
Than the voice they strangle this November day
(For Ken Saro-Wiwa, in memoriam)
A Poem by Karo Okokoh
