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By Nehi Igbinijesu.
What time we spoke They hushed What time we cried They hanged our nine From Bodo with tears Of dirt that rubbed And robbed- On us many years O! The bore of hunger That drained us With fleeting blackness Of life sucking roundabout Many promises And then hangings No more fishes Only suffering And who our tots will tell What we’ve lost To muttons,liasons and shell Wait we weeping Oh wastelands With sorrows, tears and fresh blood Still speaking full the ears Of a freedom one day gained  

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This article was first published on 14th December 2012

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