I trekked the foothills of Kano city
and emerged unto Sabo, a vast open plain
I sighted little hands stretched with alacrity
towards Good Samaritans for food grain
little hands of little children
Suffering from severe malnutrition
even when they seem all-devouring;
punchy and hungry as a horse they remain.
appalled at their indigence
and the harsh reality of their experience
I shed tears of blood
seeing how insulated their skin was
on Children's Day
they had nothing to display
but fifty cent and unwholesome food
that crushed my mood
can you still call them precious heritages?
©Paul Alowo
©paul_love
P