Grandma was a very good old lady.
Grandma was a very good young lady,
So her journal reveals.
In 1979, she wrote ‘time would heal the land’
And so she believed.
Hope reflects in her words as I read,
The civilians have failed.
Maybe, just maybe now the Military could bring a change.
And so she supported.

In 1983, the land was changed.
A façade consumed behind hope of purity, freedom and good governance.
Then Grandma feared.
The white hat was stained with blood and torn in brutality.
And so Grandma feared.

Grandma was a very good young lady,
In 1984, the grass turned grey,
The waters turned brown,
The sun was covered by the moon,
‘We men are wretched,’ she wrote
What was supposed to be a war against discipline,
Became a power chess covered by immunity.
In her writings, she predicted,
‘”War” was young men dying and old men talking’
She kissed the hands of the man who killed the land, twice.
In 1984, tongues were burned with silence.
A protest was a contest for death.
Freedom was just that, Freedom,
Freedom of brutality, freedom of ignorance and fear.

Grandma was a very good old lady.
In 2018, the year of her death,
Her wrinkled fingers wrote,
“The General is back,
Inside the rock is he seated wearing the white hat.
It was once said we do not enter the same water twice,
But The Land again has been deceived.
Mental blinkers of the past.
Mirror, Mirror, a reflection of dread”
Grandma was a very good old lady,
The tears in her eyes lazy.

© Oluwatosin_McCool