I remember sharing a piece about the Africa we so desire. Little did I know that in exactly a year from then, unarmed civilians would be slaughtered like rats to a mouse trap. I was told of all the wrongs they did in textbooks; the human sacrifices and brutalities. The bloodsheds and the gun downs, I was told that massacre equals power and that is the only way to silence the weak. “It’s quicker than reasoning!” they say.. That could have been me. That could have been my brother. That could have been me. That could have been my sister, shot in cold blood yet unarmed. Once we stood head high, chest out, singing to a flag held in pride, with words written in tar and toil. Now we stand near these same flags faced down, wounded, and ashamed of who we have become. Of what we have become. These are the monsters we made! I lost a friend to this fight. He left an unborn child to a bullet. Wished the bullet had waited two more months so he could hear the first cry of his son, Olamide. He h...