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Poetry, Drama and stories
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Gold
59 days agoNigeria is not only the map they drew,
but the laughter of children chasing dust,
the rhythm of pestle and mortar,
the echo of markets where languages weave
like threads in one bright cloth.
She is thunder rolling in Pidgin,
a proverb whispered in Yoruba,
a prayer sung in Hausa,
a tale carried in Igbo.
Her voice is never one—
it is a chorus, unfinished yet rising.
Nigeria is the stubborn sunrise
that shows up after every blackout,
the jollof pot that forgives all arguments,
the roadside hawker who knows your story
before you speak.
She is not perfect—
but inside her wounds
grow seeds of tomorrow.
And anyone who has touched her soil
knows the truth:
Nigeria is not a place you leave behind,
she is a heartbeat you carry forward.