The Dream Country!!!

She woke up with a start. She had been sleeping for long. In her dream, she was in a country where there was constant power supply, there was enough potable water. There was a good healthcare system. 

The education system was such that it produced job creators rather than job seekers. Her husband who was a carpenter now had so many new branches of his workshop that he employed more than twenty five people. 

Their two kids, a boy and a girl, were attending a school which was poised to make one a commercial farmer, and the other a designer.

The boy, Alieu, already had plans to grow wheat at commercial level. He had written a sort of a project proposal for which his mom and dad were saving monthly. By the time he qualified, they will buy him all the tools he needed to produce food on a massive scale.

The girl, Fatou, wanted to have a fashion business where she will produce new African dresses for the teeming population. She knew that it was possible. The government had plans for all young entrepreneurs who were interested in making it in life. 

She had taken it for granted that her religion, her tribe, her social background would not be a problem. She was blind but skillful. But who even talked about blindness? In this country, being disabled didn’t mean zilch. You had equal opportunities. No one was discriminated. There were schools for everyone and it was free for all.

Ndey shook off the bedclothes from her and yawned. Then despondence took over. It had all been a dream. Too bad. She walked slowly towards the bathroom. Immediately, she touched the water however, it hit her. This does not have to remain a dream. Together we can make our country like this. She vowed to start a campaign from that day to ensure that her country attained the same status as she had seen in her dream. 

‘Let us show love for our nation,’ she told everyone she met that day and went on to describe the dream country and how it will turned into reality!
Love

Tha Scribbler

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‘THE SAINT’

They all say he is a saint
I say he just uses paint
To cover the constant taint
He is the devil’s agent

He seems to think he’s immune
We will set up a tribune
He’s destroyed our commune
And gathered a fortune

We won’t let it slide by
Cus someone thinks we’re shy
We’ll get him, even if we’ve to fly
No business that is shady and sly

We will not lie
Or on our backs lie
We’ll take part of the pie
We’ll them all defy!

Love
Tha Scribbler

ISLAMIC STATE

What is this state?
But hell’s own gate
Cus all they do is hate
Using religion as bait
And then call it fate
They’ve no faith
Islam is coming late
Has neither partner nor mate

They go round dropping bombs
In big cities and slumps
We need to search with a comb
And put them in a tomb

They our religion tarnish
Them and their allies banish
They bring nothing but blemish
Proof we need not furnish
All we need is to them punish
Their method is fetish

They think it’s a game
To us they bring shame
But they seek only fame
Using Islam’s name
With excuses lame
What a shame!

Love
Tha Scribbler

WE WILL JUMP

We will always jump
Into the new dump
If you give us a pump
There we will slump

We don’t say no
Even if we know
That it\s just for show
And that we won’t grow

We are all passive
Never will be active
But we will be vindictive
Our goals we will achieve

You tell us stories of yore
Sucking our blood like the ‘yoo’
But we will one day restore
Our dignity and honour
Cus you have become a bore

You have us failed
Most of us you jailed
While some you hailed
Some had to be bailed

What shall we do with you
We will surely make you rue
We will all together you sue
We will not give you a clue
Or even a time cue!

Love
Tha Scribbler