In this land where stories rise and fall,
A question echoes, a piercing call.
Is it a crime, a whispered shame,
To bear a man's and a Nigerian name?
They say he's strong, a pillar of might,
To build and toil, from dawn to night.
To bear the burdens, the weight of the clan,
The silent, stoic, and dutiful man.
But in the shadows, another tale is spun,
Of privilege claimed, of battles won.
Of voices silenced, of dreams held at bay,
And the price of being a man to pay.
The heart that breaks, the tears that don't fall,
The silent struggle against the wall.
The pressure to provide, to never bend,
A lonely journey that seems to have no end.
He walks with caution, with watchful eyes,
Misunderstood beneath the Nigerian skies.
For every misstep, a judgment is passed,
A stereotype, a shadow that's cast.
So is it a crime to be a male in this land?
To be a brother, a father, a helping hand?
Or is it a burden, a role to fulfill,
While the world questions his worth and his will?
Let's look beyond the masks, the roles we assign,
And see the human, the truly divine.
For in every heart, a story is penned,
A plea for understanding, a need to transcend.
So let the answer be not a verdict of blame,
But a call for empathy, to quench the flame.
To see the man, not just the role he's been given,
And build a future where all can be forgiven.
