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Eulogy to the East

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olugu olugu orjiI was made in a baby factory

According a verse in our sublime history

In a city guarded by the elephant

I took my first faltering steps as an infant

Mama was a self-styled gynaecologist

Papa, a budding industrialist

Steaming at a hundred per cent installed capacity

Products rolled off the line with unmatched alacrity

Fifteen minutes was all it took

To fashion eight unique arrows, as written in our book

I was the fourth overall

And the first that pisseth against the wall


A band of rampaging marauders

Propelled by fiendish orders

Arrived in rage and haste

And laid the factory waste

With millions of arrows set ablaze

The future became a distant haze

I crawled out of a stuffy bunker

Clad only in a threadbare jumper

Still covered in losers’ toxic grime

We rebuilt the factory one brick at a time

Amidst taunts and derision

And buffeted by noisome commotion


Now factories dot the landscape like a rash

The pauperized of war awash with cash

The warehouse brims with arrows in restless mode

Primed weapons, itching to explode

To fill the earth with the abundance of creativity

Yet looking favourably to the land of their nativity

They fear and deify none

They bow the knee to the Almighty alone


Along came the official gang desperate for notice

Clothed in ignorance and prejudice

“Baby factory, baby factory,” they cry

They’re a horde held captive by a damning lie

Father forgive them for all they do

Open their minds; teach them a lesson or two  


© Olugu Olugu Orji mnia [pictured above]



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