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I am a young African hoping to change the white man's grave narrative for good.



Alas, Shepherds

Shepherds of 9ja who have been feeding yourselves

You have been feeding the cows of Bashan


You have been feeding the godfathers

Should not Shepherds feed the sheep?

You eat the of the economy

You clothe yourselves with the best wool of falsehood

You live under mansion made by the sweat of unpaid labour


You do not feed the sheep.

Oh ye Shepherds!

You say Raca to those who oppose your selfish selves.

You do not strengthen the weak

There is no place for the healers touch for the sick,

Who have not been healed

The crippled who have been injured on the galloping road

Have not been bound up

Those who have eloped with their love; brain drain

To other countries have not and cannot be called back

With the hardest force and harshness you have ruled them.

The nation is all better off without your shepherds.

“Come Up!”

A voice cries out in baritone soprano

“To the green pastures, by the fountains”

It shouts out in counterpoint upsurge.

“It is green enough here, no need to go over to the other side.”

The shepherds say Raca to the voice.




Not only have the shepherds had done wrongs

The sheep, as if the good pasture are not enough

They tread down with their feet they destroy.

Can two wrongs make a right?

Even among the sheep

You push yourselves with side and shoulder

For the crumbles, the shepherds have left you

Death is the shepherd of all mankind



I know the hireling would soon be sacked,

The real shepherds would soon arise

Not from space or overseas but from our midst

Shepherds who would make sheep sleep

In the woods

The sheep would no longer be slaves or prey

To nations

They will be provide with prosperous plantations.

Assured of all these

The sheep and the shepherds will move hand-in-hand to the pasture

© 2020 Akinkunmi Testimony

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