Nigeria of my dream

I
Snow in December, falling,
black as charcoal-
An incendiary suffusion to
Warm our hearts
Clouds of crude oil sagging
Sagging overhead threaten
To douse 240 tribes
In the flood of the oil boom.
The gods have possessed
Our children and have made
Them warriors in an unholy war
Being fought in the North
Beside the sun.
Mother, there's a crack in the foundation
stone buried by Lugard in 1914
Without our consent.

II
My child is a hundred-year-old
Teenager that throws tantrums
Whenever I peal the bells
Of democracy.
My mother's tongue (over 240
Of them) has ceased to speak
Ever since the angels from Britan
Taught us the language of God;
English.
River Niger...River Benue...
Baptise us...baptise our land
From the sins of generators.

III
The groundnut pyramids will
Be erected once more
And the rail will bear all trains
Nigeria, our father Adam told us
to till the land-
Cocoa, Oil palm, Sugarcane
And Plantain plantations.
The giant of Africa must learn
The ways of the dwarves
For long ago, they were once
Dwarves.

IV
...and in my vision
I saw a land flowing with
Milk and honey
Whose lands were carpeted
With manna
But the men were too lazy to pick
The manna on land that grew
Like grass
And they were to lazy to drink
The honey that flowed in streams
Of milk.

I see a country, a fairly big country
Somewhere in the tropics
Heavy with child
Mother will surely birth the Messiah
That will teach us how to farm.