My People Die Daily

Funny how every other year I have to dig up this poem. Here we are again since it was first published in 2017.

I am from a dark country

A place where the ground quenches its thirst with blood

The ground knows how to thirst for water but our leaders feed it with life

this is how my people die daily and their stories are buried alongside their bodies

so many Rann yet they were blown up

this is how my people die daily in frustration

from frustration

In hunger

this is how my people die daily in loud silence

We mourn them with our silence

Offering prayers from every street corner

my people die daily without dignity, without joy, without reverence their lives set North especially

as living sacrifice without value in their own land where spirits roam without rest and still have more freedom than those embodied in citizenship.

this is how my people die daily in my country. Without records.

We cannot acknowledge these senseless deaths because we too know that this is how we can end up dead.

#FortheloveofPoetry Poetry Thursdays

Munachim Chukwuma View All →

Munachim Chukwuma is an Igbo woman from Odekpe town, Ogbaru, Nigeria. She is an avid reader and passionate learner, a philosopher.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: