By Igida Kofi Eyefo
The streets are not smiling,
Even, a cockroach committed suicide
In my room, this morning.
I saw him a dangling
In the air
From the rope sewn by a spider
To hang himself.
The streets are not smiling,
Even the insects can feel
The pangs of hunger
As the crumbs of foods
Are no longer available
For them to nibble.
The streets are not smiling,
Bones are scarce
For dogs to feed on.
Men now eat moin-moin
With their leaves.
AIDS is real,
But hunger is the reality.
Hunger is a major distributor
Of all terminal infections.
Come and see the way
It drags our women
Into the house of death
All in the name of sustenance.
Songs of hardship
Have been sung
Even before I was born.
But this period of pains
Which begins with
A capital letter T
Calls for a serious concern.
The streets are not smiling,
People’s throats are dry.
Hunger kills faster
Than any killer-disease.
It deprives man
His ability to think.
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