A heavy heart laden with the unfulfilled promises of mother Africa, An even heavier heart, laden with the disenchantment of mother Earth. Ripped, raped, and laid bare, like an Odyessy without a compass in the Mediterranean, She losses her bearings, hovering blindly in circles along paths which the Israelites trod. Over a century ago it has been since the Egyptians let us be, be we haven’t perhaps a couple more centuries.
Souls being sold cold under the auspices of brotherhood, flesh for flesh, a heart for a pound, Obioma in search of an ever-elusive bank of still waters, the Libyan Peninsula, a destination of near fulfillment of prophecies of Pastor Okoye. “A breadwinner you shall be” “Ise” You shall bring