My neighbours gather to pray for our nation,

their prayers evaporating like water in

familiar puddles our leaders couldn’t fix.

One thing is sure: God is not deaf, but men are.

Deaf men who laugh from ear to ear,

watching their nation defrost like ice,

staring cluelessly at the science of falling stars.

If falling stars means death,

I am afraid my nation’s toll is rising too quickly.

I am wondering what it means to call a nation home,

what it means to say “Yes, I do”,

knowing a marriage to my country is in sickness and in sickness.

I am rethinking my allegiance,

as I stutter reciting the nation’s anthem.

I now envy those at the threshold,

those fleeing seething phlegm and black bile,

waiting to hug exile like a new bride.

But I do not wish to be crushed in the whirlwind of exile,

nor become a nation’s falling star.

To change this tide is beyond prayers;

& God is not deaf, but men are.

All I ask is that my country heals,

incise her soft flesh & purge bad blood:

,,,

,,

,

Author

Olobo Ejile is a poet, writer, and researcher from Dekina, Kogi State. His works have been featured or are forthcoming in ANA, Fiction Niche, Shallow Tales Review, Table Feasting Magazine, among others. He is a fellow of the 2025 Idembeka Creative Writing Workshop.