Are you not the son of Akbada
The tender-hearted man who;
Although he died a long time ago had only one hen.
Whenever it laid an egg hesitated not to share with the whole village.
When we saw you, we saw your father in you
The generosity and kind-heartedness
That you would follow his steps and bring change
We were tired of being played tee-a-tete
That was why we chose you
We did not care of how you side-walked your shoes
What you ate or wore
Everywhere you went you tried to enlighten part of us
Correcting the higher powers to disdain evil
our focus was on your mind
With all humility though, your face was buried in your hands
And you seemed to have bewitched us
Your words were like that of a god
With authority you seemed to shun evil
Taking to afar place our mind
Building castles of the good life to come
causing our children to dream that;
Unemployment, poverty, corruption would be history
But after all demons are not born; demons are made
Where are your dreams?
Not more than as good as dead.
In our lips it was only you
Our women danced at your appearance
And when you won;
We sang, we danced, we cried that our saviour had arrived
It was like rouse; the whole village was in a jamboree
And you re-assured the fulfilment of our dreams.
Not until the demon possessed you
Not until you had a taste of the honey
And when you realized that the honeycomb would not dry
You forgot about yourself
That it was us who took you there
You started living in Sheraton and driven in huge cars
Black suited with Swiss bank account holders
The village that was once your home became a foreign land
Walking, eating, wearing, friends all changed
And you considered us like chaff sieved in the wind.