From many seasons of carnage
We have grown to be like a clan of savage
Why do we always go on rampage
To slaughter one another and ravage?
Every cock-crow at dawn
Horror wakes us and again strikes us down
We cannot go to sleep without fears and cries
At night when the whole clan crumbles and lies
Because we roast our own folks to ashes
Mother Nature whips us with painful lashes
Bakasi Boys…Boko Haram! Please…you must go to rest
Lay down your arms like the OPC in the West
No more pastoral and imamate clashes
Let’s guard ourselves from political rashes
But why do we always go on rampage
To slaughter ourselves and ravage?
Fight over oil, land or some sacred cake
Seized by some modicum scrooge to rake?
We have heads but cannot think
Water we possess but cannot drink
Enough food but still rage on with hunger
No wonder we always let loose with anger
We have shelter but no place to hide
While we run helter-skelter when we take side
Storming with vengeance like maddening flood
Here lie our body in boiling pools of blood
Ah! We have life…we cannot live
But when shall all these strives finally take leave?
Our home is burning…Oh where do we go?
Everywhere is already set aglow
From every of the zones
Across the plains echoes the clinging of our bones
Endless strives…what did we gain?
Save mourning, cries of woes and pain
Shall we not end these seasons of carnage?
And cease to be like a clan of savage?
Come together to clear our ravages
And move to undone the damages
Call on God to send down His Merciful Aids
And save us from untold wanton and AIDS
God Please! Send down your soothing rain!
To come cool and wash away our burning pain
Calm our anger and rages
And make us again like old sages
Give us profitable life
Let us live like true brothers…free us from strife
Give us beautiful places here to hide
And let our space be wide
Let all stakeholders sow love and not tarry
Upon greed and hatred that we now carry
Like a phoenix rebuild our nation
And let each clan harvest its ration
No more rampages
No more slaughter and ravages
Let us end these seasons of carnage
And cease to be like a clan of savage
What legends shall be left for the unborn
When we go yonder and leave the stage to burn?
What chants will roll on their tongues
When they come to behold our wrongs?
Brothers! If we end not these seasons of carnage
And cease not to be like a clan of savage
Our tales shall be like that “Ballad of Rage”
Told from the first to the very last historical page.
Adeola Goloba