Cockroaches

There are cockroaches
Moving in our rooms
In dark and in broad daylight
They share in what we eat
Sleeping in our beds
Without our consent

To some of us;
They are the first things we see when awake
And the last thing
When our lights go off
An inversion of events
The place of our lovers
Cockroaches in our dreams

There are cockroaches of corruption
Hidden in files of our institutions
Eating our moral fiber
And carrying diseases of impunity across
When our doors are closed

Cockroaches in the name of men
Chasing after our ladies
Who they have no intention of marrying
But just to sleep with them
Disappearing in the light of pregnancy
Roaching from responsibility

They are cockroaches of women
Who give empty promises
Eyeing the fat wallet of the hardworking

But are burnt by the flame of marriage

There are cockroaches of religion
Roaching in the name of pastors
Saying of water and drinking wine
Asking us money for a free gift

We also see the cockroach in you
Stealing money from our public institution
Smuggling illicit drugs into the country
Then roaching into a public seat
Never quitting such an office
To protect your wealth.

Cockroaches everywhere
In our homes and campus
That have not been sprayed
Ashaming when visitors live with us.

But we are glad for the cockroaches
That are dead in our Television sets