My Army, their Armies!
By Okanga Agila
The skies darkened,
And blared in thunder,
Lightening told a tale of bloodbath,
In the land,
As the gods were angry.
All bowed to Boko’s menacing swords,
As King Nero went partying.
Mallam Musa gazed helplessly,
At his ruined village,
Deserted to the mercy of new emperors,
And screamed for help.
IDPs groaned in camps,
At resonating sounds of enemy wheels,
The new house was not home!
They are here again!
Musa exclaimed,
The Boko killers,
Tormentors of day and night,
Children scurried into tents,
Dogs barked out in innocence,
Birds chirruped in protestations,
The aged recoiled into huts,
In prayerful supplication.
But a new dawn has come,
And a new sheriff in town,
With soldiers on sentinel,
Raced to the rescue,
And in minutes,
The dreary armies of insurgents,
Melted in the gunfire of soldiers.
The hunting insurgents,
Became the hunted,
Drowning in the pool of their evil,
With voices drenched,
In wailing anguish,
Of soldiers might.
Brandishing a trophy of victory,
Soldiers came back,
To deserted villages,
And with the numeru uno soldier,
On guard in combativeness,
Beckoned to compatriots,
In consoling embrace.
Tears of joy rented the air,
As returnees trooped,
Into deserted villages in droves,
In thankful excitement for the Army,
The pride of our nation,
Beacons of hope in liberation,
And saviour of the black race.
They stood in rain and sunshine,
Enduring all adversities,
To clip the claws of terrorism,
And the ravenous teeth of bile separatists.
The Army quietened,
Murderous armed bandits,
In the forests and caves,
Of the Northwest,
To cement the fabrics of unity,
And peace and security,
In our country!
Our Army, pride of the nation,
Impenetrable to even Nazi solders,
Conquerors of insurgencies,
And devourers of insurrections,
Adorned in bright colours,
With green, alluring symbol of nature,
And the boot representing,
The unfading strength of our nation.
It is the Nigerian Army ,
Of our dream; one in a million,
Nemesis of a dozen armies,
In the guardian light,
Of Gen. Buratai,
Under the finest of ethoes.
Composed by Okanga Agila, dedicated to General TY Buratai, the Soldiers’ Soldier.
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