No one including father and mother will do more than their best.
They may only throb laziness out of us when we choose to follow the cock to its coop at dusk.
Yes, they will correct us when we deny hawker’s tray or left their stall to play with folk.
But who should we reproach first, the colonial masters or God for our failure?
Who should we blame first, our head or this tattered land we found ourselves?
Who is guilty of our ignorance and those lost souls in the wilderness of evil?
Our teachers, our adulterated culture or our country elders?
Who should we throw stone at first,
Our frail mind or Satan, for falling prey to swindler’s induction?
Let us blame ourselves,
Blame thyself for making hay when the sun set.
Blame thyself for denying yourself a second birth.
Blame thyself for snoring in the refuge of laziness.
Blame thyself for dying thousand death again and again.
Where our problem begins is from our hands, our mind, and what we accept not to live without.