Peter Benjamin

Who is Next to Go

WHO IS NEXT TO GO
by Peter Benjamin Peter (Mr. Headlines)

First Written and published in 2017, and released in 2018 (audio), Peter Benjamin Peter’s spoken song has been an evergreen track that prophetically tells the true Nigerian story ahead of time.

The poem which jointly won the Association of Nigerian Authors Poetry slam 2021 became even more timely in 2023, especially with the Nigerian elections and events surrounding it.

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Lyrics

[Chorus]
Sometimes,
Na we dey do ourselves o,
Tomorrow no dey come x2
Sometimes, na we deceive ourselves o,
Tomorrow no be date x2
WHO’S NEXT TO GO?

[Spoken Word: Verse 1]
15 bodies lie in the street,
Helpless, breathless, defenceless,
15 men journeyed on the road to redemption and freedom from corruption.
On the way they stopped to glance at a python dance,
But that became their last romance,
They were chained, caned and slain.
But the lion who induced, seduced and pushed them to the theatre of war,
Flushing their brains with miscarriage promises,
Tales of lies and super-stories,
crawled to safety, when the python roared in anger,
And I ask myself,
WHY DIE FOR A MAN WHO WILL NEVER ATTEND YOUR FUNERAL? WHY SPILL YOUR BLOOD FOR MEN WHO WHEN THE POLITICAL TRANSFER WINDOW OPENS WILL BE BEST OF FRIENDS? The men whose blood flooded the street if given the chance to live again will tell you,
Let the eastern sun set in peace.

[Pre-Chorus]
WHO IS NEXT TO GO?
Is it this man whose son schools at Oxford University?
Or the other man whose family relocated to Dubai?
Is it you?
Or would it be me?

[Spoken Word: Verse 2]
What is left for you and me?
We’ve been used, abused, bruised and confused with questions, aggression, obsession and depression.. All wrapped in one disguised word – FREEDOM.
As hard as we try to be disassociated, we still find ourselves arrested, infected, injected and impregnated with erected dicks of poverty, robbery, apathy and inequality,
But all we do is killing ourselves for mere property…
Haba, what a pity!

Cry Nigeria, cry
Cry for the woman who for years fried akara,
Deprived herself of Ankara,
Became a laughing stock, mkpo nsaha, (mkpo nsaha is an Ibibio phrase which means “laughing stock”),
Just to give her son an assurance but he returned to her in an ambulance,
And all they said was GOD GIVES, GOD TAKES…
Cry

Cry for the boy who spent years in higher institution,

Came out to serve his nation,
Was deployed to election,
Got shot by opposition,
And all they said was, GONE TOO SOON.

[Pre-chorus]
WHO IS NEXT TO GO?
Is it this man who we cheered as the chairman but later abandoned us to sell parent to pay rent?
Or the other man who knows he has boys but doesn’t know how we look?
Is it you?
Or would it be me?

[Spoken Word: verse 3]

Before we were told that youth are leaders of tomorrow,
But each time we approach tomorrow it seems like we have two-more-rows to jump…
So they now say we are not too young to run,
But not too young to run is like giving you a loan and refusing to leave you alone,
because these days they no longer appoint those whom the cap fits,
but those who can win the cap.
Ghana must go I was told was a bag of clothes,
but it is now a bag of money.
Herdsmen I was told were men who control cows,
but they now control heads of men,
Uprooting crops, planting farmers.
We’ve spent decades inside a well, yet they say our life is well-spent,
But like a bicycle we cannot stand erect because we are two-tyred,
So they take away everything we have left, and claim we are all-right.
Even the women whom we men named woman now woe man.
But in compensation they give us codeine so we can code in to their plans
and instead of to love and marry Juana, the youth now love Marijuana.
The men who we kill ourselves for, highest they do when they meet their opposition is exchange words,
But we, exchange bullets.
25 youth die here,
15 die there,
Who is killing the youth?
The answer, Youth are killing youth for the elderly.
Cry Nigeria, cry.
Cry for that ignorant child of who will still ignore this rant and sell his future for a day’s meal.
Cry for that child who despite running from bombs and bullets still believes he is too young to run.
Obituary is not just for the dead.
Obituary is also for the living kidnapped, slapped, trapped and wrapped in the crumbled dreams of yesteryear’s.
Until we wake to realize that this disease is worse than Ebola,
I say, GOODNIGHT NIGERIA

[Chorus]
Sometimes,
Na we dey do ourselves o,
Tomorrow no dey come x2
Sometimes, na we deceive ourselves o,
Tomorrow no be date x2
WHO’S NEXT TO GO?

[Outro]
I said those lines from my head,
Call them headlines.
Peter Benjamin Peter