19/03/2026
A SIMPLE SONG OF MAKURDI AND GUMA
Makurdi and Guma,
two hands of one body,
walking the long road of years,
from 1999 till now.
They choose a voice,
again and again,
not because one failed,
but because the wind of politics blows.
Twenty-one wards,
many villages, many streets,
people waiting, hoping,
for water, for light, for schools.
And somehow, in many ways,
both sides have tasted
the small, sweet fruit
of democracy.
There was Upaa Tivnongu Kinga,
in the early morning of democracy,
when the nation was still learning
how to walk again.
His work may not shout loud,
but the people let him stay—
two terms,
like a quiet nod of trust.
Then came Emmanuel Lyambee Jime,
with words like clear drums.
He gave books,
he built classrooms,
he sent children to school
with hope in their pockets.
Water flowed,
jobs opened like doors.
After him, Dickson Dominic Tarkighir rose,
a friend to many young dreams.
He pointed the way to work,
to offices, to uniforms,
to a future that feeds itself.
Even when he left,
it was not for lack of love,
but the shifting ground of power.
Then came Mzondu Benjamin Bem,
sharing tools, sharing strength—
machines that hum,
money that starts a life,
light in dark places,
water under the sun.
Still, the wind turned again,
and the seat changed hands.
Now the road looks ahead to 2027.
Work has been done,
hands have tried,
dreams have grown.
But tell me, people of Makurdi and Guma—
when the next day comes,
will you choose by what is done,
or follow where politics leads?
©Dooga Bem Theophilus
2026
