“AND YET THE BATTLE RAGES ON”



His uniform starched and ironed parade style

Proudly, he stepped down from the squad van

Nothing depicts him from the regular combatant

Except the fiber helmet, considering the hazard

Of his job; this looks pretty light, one would say



He has a family; wife and kids back home

He is a benefactor to large extended family

But today he’s been summoned to duty

A job that could save the lives of dozens,

Disposing of a lethal package on the street of Kaduna



So he stepped out of the van, smart and elegant

In the immaculate uniform of a lawman

A symbol of authority and peace he represents

The crowd stood still, peering breathlessly

With all the elegance of a professional, he sauntered along



He walks along as one summoned by the gods

Fate stood still; the gods looked the other way

None to whisper caution; none to murmur halt

It was a routine job, just like the one before

So he marched on with a singular purpose



They were called the bomb squad boys

They were called the bomb disposal unit

They were known as the lawmen

Who put their lives on the line for others

To execute a thankless and despised job



So the crowd stood still, waiting breathlessly

He was the only moving being in a crowded city

One second he was hovering over the culprit

Bruuum! The sound echoed down the road

Reverberating over the sand dunes of the desert



Reverberating down the spine of men

In million homes as they glued to TV

He was alive and proud officer of the law

A second ago; a very long second of life

Transiting into life beyond this realm



In second, and there were only Limbs and sinews

Held together by threads from that immaculate

Uniform that represents authority, which has been

Trampled upon with the fiercest of ignominy

And without a name, he’s paid the supreme price



He is one in a hundred who paid the Supreme price

In line of duty; there are no epitaphs to immortalize

These proud lawmen: he is one of the forgotten heroes.

Whose pain gnawing the heart of only those they left behind;

Wives and children, weeping for their loved ones.



Anarchy has loosened upon our generation

By forces demented by an evil apparition

Masked in men’s face with satanic ideology

He died in that gruesome exhibition, yet there’s

No, let go; the battle still rages on.