In Their Innocenc, a poem by Abbah Justins

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In Their Innocence
..................................

In their innocence,
They carried books, not burdens,
Small hands wrapped around pencils
Like promises,
Like blessings,
To learn, to grow, and to become.

The youngsters, still learning
What the world was made of:
Chalk dust and laughter,
The smell of rain on red earth,
The sound of Father's bike coming,
A mother's voice at dusk, calling
Them home.

They are not the cause of Nigeria's problems.
Why use them as political emblems?
Why all these incidents?
They are innocent.
They did not know the word 'bandit'.
They did not know the word 'ransom'.
They only knew the school bell,
The scratch of a pen on paper,
The way knowledge opens a door,
Even when the world outside is dark.

The month of May is supposed to be a Children's Day celebration,
But they decided to make a sting of liberation.
Then, on May 15th, gunmen came to Oriire.
They took them away, along with their teachers,
Stormed the place where innocence
Was still permitted to exist.

Tell me, what is a classroom
Without students and teachers?
What is a future
When the present has been stolen?

Bring them home, to where dreams lie.
Bring them home, to where dreams fly.
Bring them home, to where hope is high.
Bring them all home.

©️ Abbah Justina
2/6/2026

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