Soulja Story

A soulja battling Boko Haram who is also fighting his personal
demons writes his daughter about his personal struggles.

Dear Daughter,

This is not Father.

Tell you what; this war's been one tough nut to crack;

If we fight the enemy we shall hit our brothers.

There's no telling who got dragged into this joint;

Or who got paid to settle for a human bomb.

I've had nightmares where I woke up totally drenched;

Victory has never before tethered on a more slippery edge.

Who willingly yields up a daughter?

Then turns around and cries, Murder! Murder!

Who can spot the color of truth, color of a lie?

Who discerns a foe just by looking 'em in the eye?

Sometimes, I feel this is a struggle in vain.

I assume it sounds lame and probably is insane.

But can I be positive I ain't sticking out my neck for a traitor?

Can I state with certainty there ain’t secret mass burial sites?

They wear our faces and speak our tongue.

They sniff out the nitty-gritty of our minds.

If I sound a bit off the wall maybe I am.

But when we get down to brass tacks it’s Nigerians offing Nigerians.

Things are never what they seem behind enemy lines,

In this place I wage war and for same I lay down my life.

Dear Daughter,

This is Father.

Akpan