In Eruku, prayers ascended
and bullets answered first.
Church doors splintered;
a sanctuary of hope
transfigured into an altar of smoke and screams.
Three worshippers collapsed beside their Bibles,
their blood seeping like unanswered supplications
across the fissured concrete.
The pastor was dragged into the night,
his lamentations swallowed by bush paths
now highways for the damned.
Elsewhere, in the same beleaguered land,
Musa
who had dedicated his life to the green-white-green
was…
Read the full article here











