I cry daily to meet needs,
The needs I am meant to meet keep piling up,
The owner of these needs are getting drown,
What to acquire become mount everest before their recipients,
I weep.
I am a currency that has been trampled upon,
By greedy politicians.
Some extremely wealthy bury me before my death inside a dry well.
Some kept me inside a room,
Where Micano Generator runs with extremely expensive diesel,
AC is blowing on me 24/7,
I weep.
Certain masses who are millions in number could not access me,
Because… Hmmm
Only the 6% are withholding my 95% volume,
The masses of about 94% of the population are struggling with my 5% volume.
I weep at the hospital,
Where I would have been used to save the dying,
I weep at the market square
Where the hungry masses could not use me to feed their famished tummy.
I weep at the dreams, visions, aspirations, passions,
And ideas of great minds that follow them to the grave.
I would have been used in establishing a lot of companies,
The companies would have employed labour.
These companies were never established because I did not touch the hands of the inventors.
I am a weeping currency,
As I lose my values daily,
I crashed from a skyscraper to six feet below,
Who shall console me from my daily uncontrollable tears?
I am Naira, the weeping currency.
You can dry my tears,
Oh wealthy man,
By sharing some of your millions with the poor.
You can wipe away my tears,
Oh powerful politician,
By distributing the nation’s wealth to the masses,
Up to the grass root.
You can dry my tears,
Oh common accountant, clerk, or whoever you are,
By feeding at least a soul
if you have extra to share.
You can drain my tears permanently,
Oh reader,
No matter your class, cadre or Level in the society,
By giving back to the society, out of the little or abundance you possess.
I am Naira, the weeping currency,
I desire to weep no more.
Written by Adio-Moses Damilola Mercy.
