In Nigeria, violent death, senseless killings and maiming have gradually become a nightmare Nigerians have learnt to live with. Anybody can be killed at any moment and anywhere and nobody would make a fuss. In the last decade, Nigeria has become a country where a day that passes without tens of innocent people, mostly children and women, killed in a most brutal and barbaric manner would be an abnormality. Certain brutes in human skin have developed a rare taste for slaughtering Nigerians within Nigeria all in the name of religion, politics and money, and the state has been totally incapacitated in coming to the rescue of these innocent and defenceless Nigerians. This has become scarily prevalent and ubiquitous in our country, but even scarier is the new-found acceptance the trend is gaining as a norm. This poem captures one of the numerous periods that I find myself reflecting on these killings and how we arrived here. This time, I happened to be in a Bus Rapid Transit (BRT) vehicle travelling from Stadium to Tafawa Balewa Square in the heart of Lagos at about 08:45AM on 26 March 2018.
