THE TERROR-WRIST

In the hallowed dome, the lawmakers' pen, a silent razor slits the nation’s fragile vein; official seals erupt like scarlet on fake amen, and billions disappear in the ink’s tender rain.

At Fridays salat, imam reflects on the zakat, his khutbah sweet, his purse lined with lies; bishop's jet roars over satiety tithe's kite— both transact salvation at paradise price.

The wrist that scribbles is sibling to the wrist that pulls the trigger in Sambisa's manacles; one plants the fear, one harvests it in fist— Herdsmen, Haram, same ancestral miracles.

Even in Abuja, Ibadan, Nsuka, and Jos Many first-class minds are buried alive: degrees traded for beer, rum and bride-price Such that mediocrity and neophytes survive.

The land bleeds from paper cuts and guns with multiple festering wounds without care. Until we shackle the terror of the fierce pens the terror-wrist with impunity will always dare.