The playground


The Playground
The playground
I have come to the playground,
yet I look around,
and see no friend around.

My joy is tempered,
so I cried out loud:
“Aisha! Ifuyaya! Chichima!” My voice echoed
and journeyed even beyond
the bounds of the playground.

Yet, I look around,
and see no friend around;
so my sorrow is triggered,
then I cried out loud:
One, two, three times, yet no one responded.

Suddenly, the sun changed over me, and
gloom quickly took over me, and
my eyes so blind to see, and
my feet so weak to stand,
I fell boom! to the ground.

At once, like a dream, Aisha, Ifuyaya and Chichima stood
in the midst of a crowd -
All girls – Noose adorning necks, hands and legs and
like sardines, so they are packed.
Half naked, heads down, as tears flowed freely down many cheeks, and
dripped on the ground.

Awe gripped me, and
my heart missed a beat, at once; but it beats my mind:
When? How? Why? Boko raided our village, rid
and rip-off young girls of Chibok. I wailed and wailed
Boko! Bring back our girls kidnapped!
Boko! Bring back our girls kidnapped!

For how can Chibok be freed?
When her future is captured and tortured
daily, by men so fierce and resolved
to see their end.

I pray, Baba God!
If you dey, may the girls be freed.
May Chibok be freed, Baba God!
Then my friends can come around,
so we can play our play on the playground.

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I wrote this poem to add my voice to the "#Bring back our girls" campaign.