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Hauwa’s hour was swift

She was only twenty-four

But could have been forty-four

Deep in the savannah of Rann

She toiled for the vulnerable

In the sights of Boko Haram

That was abominable

Faced with horror

She braved the terror

Now she’s gone in a whiff

Her pain and despair

Our groan and nightmare

Hauwa’s hour was swift

Tears and tributes will not bring her back

Agony and sorrow will come and pass

But our angel was not taken away.

Because her memory lives each day.

What do you think?

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