By Juliet Iwelunmor-Ezepu

The day the lion went away
The sun refused to rise
Even the birds refused to fly
For all things had fallen apart

I’ll ask you to pray for a man of the people
For him to come instill civil peace
In the hearts of the voter, the madman,
and even the British protected child
Or else they will no longer be at ease
Now that the lion has gone away

But let us try to save those anthills of the savannah
For all our hopes and impediments
Our language and our destiny
Even our world and our art
And the threats to our stories are now real
Now that the lion has gone away

Even though we don’t know where the morning sun will face
We must continue to tell our stories our way
As the knowledge of our past
Leads to the wisdom of our present
We must preserve, maintain
And guard it with jealousy
Or become completely irrelevant
Now that the lion has gone away

And so I beg you,
Don’t let our future die
For it is so supreme
Tomorrow, The sun will rise
And birds will fly
Even though all things may have fallen apart
Nothing puzzles God
Even now that the lion has gone away

 Juliet Iwelunmor-Ezepue, PhD. wrote from Paris, France.