(excerpts)
….Come listen to our songs
Woven in our web of tales
Telling of births and life
Of yesterdays that never return
Of yesterdays that cling to now
Of todays that lie half-lived without tomorrow
And of many nights of tomorrow
When like Ogoo
We’ll know the ways of the wind and rain
Telling our children to clap and sing
While they wait for you to come to play…
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
IF YOU ASK
(excerpts)
If you ask
Where life was before it began
You would want to know
Why death kills without dying.
If you know
The source of a spring
You would ask
How it met the ocean.
If you ask
Where life was before it began
You would want to know
Why death kills without dying.
If you know
The source of a spring
You would ask
How it met the ocean.
IF YOU ASK
(excerpts)
If you ask
Where life was before it began
You would want to know
Why death kills without dying.
If you know
The source of a spring
You would ask
How it met the ocean.
If you ask
Where life was before it began
You would want to know
Why death kills without dying.
If you know
The source of a spring
You would ask
How it met the ocean.
WHEN I WAS BORN
(excerpt)
…She was moaning
In a labour of sweet pain
As she got abash in blood
When I was born.
She called me Omalicha
The name of a beautiful soul
Chanted to bring forth the season of rain
When I was born.
…She was moaning
In a labour of sweet pain
As she got abash in blood
When I was born.
She called me Omalicha
The name of a beautiful soul
Chanted to bring forth the season of rain
When I was born.
NOW THAT DREAMS ARE BORN
Hear her voice…in whispers
(excerpts)
YOU HAVE COME
i
Set out before dark clouds
Gather in the eyes of the sun
For you shall pass through paths
r
u
n
n
i
n
g
in roses and thistles
On a thousand crooked bends
Set out with your basket of hope
To gather wealth s c a t t e r e d
in the heart of the earth
Omo mi t’o nlo s’oja
Do not scatter the shrimp and gather its shell
Do not trade the seed to buy the leaves
Set out my child through fallow lands
And fetch abundance from the bed of the sea.
iii
…echi di ime
but ogboo told me that I am the mystery born of the spirits
unfolding on each waking pulse of time
mubuwa
a lone child of twin destinies who has wrestled with demons
in hollow valleys and thorny dungeons
mu bu onye ma uwa m
that is why I won’t be lost in the bazaar of twinkling vanities
where men hawk the priceless wares of their souls
O mu bu onye ma uwa m
…how then can tomorrow hide mysteries in her womb
when I am the seed already born
…where is paradise?
Paradise comes to watch us
as we learn the ride of life
on the ascending hills
bruising the knees
and yet standing tall…
(excerpts)
YOU HAVE COME
i
Set out before dark clouds
Gather in the eyes of the sun
For you shall pass through paths
r
u
n
n
i
n
g
in roses and thistles
On a thousand crooked bends
Set out with your basket of hope
To gather wealth s c a t t e r e d
in the heart of the earth
Omo mi t’o nlo s’oja
Do not scatter the shrimp and gather its shell
Do not trade the seed to buy the leaves
Set out my child through fallow lands
And fetch abundance from the bed of the sea.
iii
…echi di ime
but ogboo told me that I am the mystery born of the spirits
unfolding on each waking pulse of time
mubuwa
a lone child of twin destinies who has wrestled with demons
in hollow valleys and thorny dungeons
mu bu onye ma uwa m
that is why I won’t be lost in the bazaar of twinkling vanities
where men hawk the priceless wares of their souls
O mu bu onye ma uwa m
…how then can tomorrow hide mysteries in her womb
when I am the seed already born
…where is paradise?
Paradise comes to watch us
as we learn the ride of life
on the ascending hills
bruising the knees
and yet standing tall…
OMALICHA
The Beautiful One
Is a poetic collection which extols the nature and essence of woman, her role in the creative circle of life…the powers she wields and the ethereal expressions of her being to bring sanity and balance to a man-made world.
MARIA
Far from the prodding eyes
of men and angels
she toils…
with the strength
of a thousand soldiers
she bears the world…
then her shoulders falling…
yet she’s running to embrace
the f l e e t i n g dreams
of her own world
Beaten
Battered
And broken
In her boudoir
she veils her bleeding scar
with a smile to save Belzebub…
Maria
Mother of the earth
Pour your jars of uncried tears
into our empty pots
Maria
Goddess of all that is born of love
break these iron walls of silence…
Talk Maria
Death hovers
in
the
belly
of your
silent gnasings
dreams are dying!
Maria talk…
Life is wilting !
Talk Maria…
Salvation is come.
Is a poetic collection which extols the nature and essence of woman, her role in the creative circle of life…the powers she wields and the ethereal expressions of her being to bring sanity and balance to a man-made world.
MARIA
Far from the prodding eyes
of men and angels
she toils…
with the strength
of a thousand soldiers
she bears the world…
then her shoulders falling…
yet she’s running to embrace
the f l e e t i n g dreams
of her own world
Beaten
Battered
And broken
In her boudoir
she veils her bleeding scar
with a smile to save Belzebub…
Maria
Mother of the earth
Pour your jars of uncried tears
into our empty pots
Maria
Goddess of all that is born of love
break these iron walls of silence…
Talk Maria
Death hovers
in
the
belly
of your
silent gnasings
dreams are dying!
Maria talk…
Life is wilting !
Talk Maria…
Salvation is come.
IN MY EYES
A Child’s memorable verse
(excerpts)
Is a creative piece of poetic verse written in simple language to engage the impressionable heart of the child. It opens the mind of the child to the divine uniqueness of his/her world and provides a ground to speak, to and about him/herself in words so pure and untainted as against the imposed ………..of the outside world.
Long before the earth came
long before beauty was named
I dwell in Nature’s wonder
…waiting to be born.
I was in a far away place…
life beckoned to me
and I came to you
in an arpeggio of dreams
yet
unborn
Tell me mother…
that in the days
when
life
is
cut
short
by the swiftness of time
that
I shall last long
in the palm of the earth
I
have come
to plant greatness
beyond
the seas…
c o n q u e r i n g
strange lands
(excerpts)
Is a creative piece of poetic verse written in simple language to engage the impressionable heart of the child. It opens the mind of the child to the divine uniqueness of his/her world and provides a ground to speak, to and about him/herself in words so pure and untainted as against the imposed ………..of the outside world.
Long before the earth came
long before beauty was named
I dwell in Nature’s wonder
…waiting to be born.
I was in a far away place…
life beckoned to me
and I came to you
in an arpeggio of dreams
yet
unborn
Tell me mother…
that in the days
when
life
is
cut
short
by the swiftness of time
that
I shall last long
in the palm of the earth
I
have come
to plant greatness
beyond
the seas…
c o n q u e r i n g
strange lands
SOMETHING ABOUT ME
Zainab Usman
Every moment, children of diverse origin, colour and tongue are born into the world. whether or not we come thorough a royal lineage does not make anyone less human created by a creator. So I was moulded on a certain day unknown to me. Every invisible cell in my body and every physical attribute were carefully and wonderfully carved to suite only me. I may look like someone in the Caribbean or have a resemblance with an Indian but there’s no one in the whole world exactly like me.
I was born on a Monday. Am sure God didn’t have loads of work on his hands, so he took his time on me. He chose to bring me out of the warmth of my mother’s womb on that certain Monday, the 15th of June 1992. What a time of the year. The month of great luck and sunshine. The month of Jupiter. It was in Yola, a day after my mum celebrated her 30th birthday. He made me stand 5feet and a few inches tall, gave me a glowing brown skin, carved me a slightly pointed nose, painted my lips pink with a white eyes that looks like that of the eagle and lined my eyebrow heavily. He knows that a long, black hair will suit perfectly my oval face. Without being modest, I am beautiful…
Every moment, children of diverse origin, colour and tongue are born into the world. whether or not we come thorough a royal lineage does not make anyone less human created by a creator. So I was moulded on a certain day unknown to me. Every invisible cell in my body and every physical attribute were carefully and wonderfully carved to suite only me. I may look like someone in the Caribbean or have a resemblance with an Indian but there’s no one in the whole world exactly like me.
I was born on a Monday. Am sure God didn’t have loads of work on his hands, so he took his time on me. He chose to bring me out of the warmth of my mother’s womb on that certain Monday, the 15th of June 1992. What a time of the year. The month of great luck and sunshine. The month of Jupiter. It was in Yola, a day after my mum celebrated her 30th birthday. He made me stand 5feet and a few inches tall, gave me a glowing brown skin, carved me a slightly pointed nose, painted my lips pink with a white eyes that looks like that of the eagle and lined my eyebrow heavily. He knows that a long, black hair will suit perfectly my oval face. Without being modest, I am beautiful…
SOMETHING ABOUT ME
Zainab Usman
Every moment, children of diverse origin, colour and tongue are born into the world. whether or not we come thorough a royal lineage does not make anyone less human created by a creator. So I was moulded on a certain day unknown to me. Every invisible cell in my body and every physical attribute were carefully and wonderfully carved to suite only me. I may look like someone in the Caribbean or have a resemblance with an Indian but there’s no one in the whole world exactly like me.
I was born on a Monday. Am sure God didn’t have loads of work on his hands, so he took his time on me. He chose to bring me out of the warmth of my mother’s womb on that certain Monday, the 15th of June 1992. What a time of the year. The month of great luck and sunshine. The month of Jupiter. It was in Yola, a day after my mum celebrated her 30th birthday. He made me stand 5feet and a few inches tall, gave me a glowing brown skin, carved me a slightly pointed nose, painted my lips pink with a white eyes that looks like that of the eagle and lined my eyebrow heavily. He knows that a long, black hair will suit perfectly my oval face. Without being modest, I am beautiful…
Every moment, children of diverse origin, colour and tongue are born into the world. whether or not we come thorough a royal lineage does not make anyone less human created by a creator. So I was moulded on a certain day unknown to me. Every invisible cell in my body and every physical attribute were carefully and wonderfully carved to suite only me. I may look like someone in the Caribbean or have a resemblance with an Indian but there’s no one in the whole world exactly like me.
I was born on a Monday. Am sure God didn’t have loads of work on his hands, so he took his time on me. He chose to bring me out of the warmth of my mother’s womb on that certain Monday, the 15th of June 1992. What a time of the year. The month of great luck and sunshine. The month of Jupiter. It was in Yola, a day after my mum celebrated her 30th birthday. He made me stand 5feet and a few inches tall, gave me a glowing brown skin, carved me a slightly pointed nose, painted my lips pink with a white eyes that looks like that of the eagle and lined my eyebrow heavily. He knows that a long, black hair will suit perfectly my oval face. Without being modest, I am beautiful…
THE DAY EVERYTHING WENT WRONG
It was on the morning of 23rd January 2006. I woke up at 5am, and then I went to the bathroom to take my bath. It all started with the bad fall, which I had in the bathroom.
I was grateful to God that I did not hit my head on anything hard. And my bone wasn’t broken. After I had taken my bath and dressed for school, it was 6am. On my way bringing our breakfast out, I tripped over and fell down breaking six mugs. I had cuts on my leg. I was shivering. I was thinking about the beautifully designed mugs that have crashed into pieces. Nobody worried about them. I was taken to the hospital for treatment without much delay.
Just for me to cross the road and get into our car, I was nearly knocked down by a careless BTU driver (Base Transport Unity). What a most frightening way to start a day.
On getting to school I was informed that our loving teacher who went for promotional exams had an accident on their way going. They all died. I was shocked to silence.
Later the evening I felt so cold and realized I could not eat at all. I bit my tongue so hard that blood was gushing out. I couldn’t cry. Though promotion is from God Almighty not from any other person… And I would not say this is the day everything went wrong in my life because I don’t know what will happen tomorrow…
Ahmed Bala Rufai
I was grateful to God that I did not hit my head on anything hard. And my bone wasn’t broken. After I had taken my bath and dressed for school, it was 6am. On my way bringing our breakfast out, I tripped over and fell down breaking six mugs. I had cuts on my leg. I was shivering. I was thinking about the beautifully designed mugs that have crashed into pieces. Nobody worried about them. I was taken to the hospital for treatment without much delay.
Just for me to cross the road and get into our car, I was nearly knocked down by a careless BTU driver (Base Transport Unity). What a most frightening way to start a day.
On getting to school I was informed that our loving teacher who went for promotional exams had an accident on their way going. They all died. I was shocked to silence.
Later the evening I felt so cold and realized I could not eat at all. I bit my tongue so hard that blood was gushing out. I couldn’t cry. Though promotion is from God Almighty not from any other person… And I would not say this is the day everything went wrong in my life because I don’t know what will happen tomorrow…
Ahmed Bala Rufai
LONG LONG HOLIDAY
Holiday has come once again. We miss our mum like there’s no tomorrow. Biggie and I started the holiday without her. We had to go and stay with our family friend, although we were not used to them. My mum had to travel to Mecca because that was the only trip she had been waiting for and nothing could stop her from going.
The house we went to stay was not bad because my cousins were there too. Their children were very entertaining especially the eldest amongst them, Mohammed.
At first, I didn’t want to stay but mum persuaded me to. The family is a nuclear family with five lovely children. The mother of the house is a very strict. She is a no-nonsense woman. We also call her “mum” as a sign of respect. Their father is a very funny person but when he could be stern when the need arises.
Biggi and I had problem with the food because we weren’t used to their food choices but hunger taught us to get by. They eat semovita, bean cake with garri, okro soup, fish and spaghetti and these food, I dislike. Do you ask what I eat if dislike all these?
Mummy call on us everyday to find out if we are okay. For the first three days I wasn’t happy because I was missing my mother. There is one problem with me. I easily don’t get satisfied with things around me. I find it difficult to mix wit people. Most times I think shy people are mistaken to be snobbish but only a shy person knows what keeps her away from the crowd…
Aisha Adeola Abubakar
The house we went to stay was not bad because my cousins were there too. Their children were very entertaining especially the eldest amongst them, Mohammed.
At first, I didn’t want to stay but mum persuaded me to. The family is a nuclear family with five lovely children. The mother of the house is a very strict. She is a no-nonsense woman. We also call her “mum” as a sign of respect. Their father is a very funny person but when he could be stern when the need arises.
Biggi and I had problem with the food because we weren’t used to their food choices but hunger taught us to get by. They eat semovita, bean cake with garri, okro soup, fish and spaghetti and these food, I dislike. Do you ask what I eat if dislike all these?
Mummy call on us everyday to find out if we are okay. For the first three days I wasn’t happy because I was missing my mother. There is one problem with me. I easily don’t get satisfied with things around me. I find it difficult to mix wit people. Most times I think shy people are mistaken to be snobbish but only a shy person knows what keeps her away from the crowd…
Aisha Adeola Abubakar
ON THE AVALANCHE
Hadiza Ndama
The little yellow lamp glowed dimly and finally went out. That was the last thing I could recall. Every other occurrence that night was obliterated from my memory.
Then I saw light. I didn’t see any trace of where it came from. As I rolled on my back, there was a hullabaloo around me, contrasting people with different facial expressions moved to and fro. The horizon stretched out like friendly piles of ice-cream. In total oblivion of the real world, I was awakened by a tap on the shoulder.
“Hello, do you mind taking a walk?”
It was a young handsome bloke smiling widely at me. He looked again, his eyes peering into mine. Then suddenly, his lovely smile began to fade away and all I could see was mere terror overcoming his confidence. Without thinking twice, I looked at myself, but alas, my extremities were all scaly and horrible claws took the place of nails. Letting out a loud yell, I went off the rails.
My skull almost cracked open as I woke up into the morning light. I heard birds chirpily hovering about and the intertwined posies looked very pleasant. Next was a wide carven, stooping before me and all at once, there was another tap on my shoulder. Who could that be?
“Come with me” the voice said. I turned abruptly and saw a face similar to the former but more mature. He pulled me and I dragged myself helplessly after him; into the carven. Arriving at the strange chamber, I was appalled; large hairy creepy crawlies were all over the place, the walls were painted with horrible graffiti, cobwebs clung to my body and if not mistaken I heard rattles. My teeth clattered, my hair stood up. What a sight to behold!
“You mean there are rattlesnakes here? Oh my!” I was terrified to the core.
“Don’t worry. You only need a form of revitalization right now”, he said, as I held him tightly – not knowing what was on ground. There was a two –feet deep pile of dead mice in a corner. As I watched in awe the structure of the whole place, fully shielded humans from nowhere appeared and grabbed me.
“Not again! Leave me alone!”, I shouted, kicking hard, but to no avail. There was a slight pain as an object pierced me. Soon, I began to hear voices talking, one after the other. The voices sounded familiar. “Why did you make such a mistake?” a voice asked, accompanied by a blurry voice.
After gaining consciousness, I pulled myself up, feeling scattered and worrisome…
Hadiza Ndama
The little yellow lamp glowed dimly and finally went out. That was the last thing I could recall. Every other occurrence that night was obliterated from my memory.
Then I saw light. I didn’t see any trace of where it came from. As I rolled on my back, there was a hullabaloo around me, contrasting people with different facial expressions moved to and fro. The horizon stretched out like friendly piles of ice-cream. In total oblivion of the real world, I was awakened by a tap on the shoulder.
“Hello, do you mind taking a walk?”
It was a young handsome bloke smiling widely at me. He looked again, his eyes peering into mine. Then suddenly, his lovely smile began to fade away and all I could see was mere terror overcoming his confidence. Without thinking twice, I looked at myself, but alas, my extremities were all scaly and horrible claws took the place of nails. Letting out a loud yell, I went off the rails.
My skull almost cracked open as I woke up into the morning light. I heard birds chirpily hovering about and the intertwined posies looked very pleasant. Next was a wide carven, stooping before me and all at once, there was another tap on my shoulder. Who could that be?
“Come with me” the voice said. I turned abruptly and saw a face similar to the former but more mature. He pulled me and I dragged myself helplessly after him; into the carven. Arriving at the strange chamber, I was appalled; large hairy creepy crawlies were all over the place, the walls were painted with horrible graffiti, cobwebs clung to my body and if not mistaken I heard rattles. My teeth clattered, my hair stood up. What a sight to behold!
“You mean there are rattlesnakes here? Oh my!” I was terrified to the core.
“Don’t worry. You only need a form of revitalization right now”, he said, as I held him tightly – not knowing what was on ground. There was a two –feet deep pile of dead mice in a corner. As I watched in awe the structure of the whole place, fully shielded humans from nowhere appeared and grabbed me.
“Not again! Leave me alone!”, I shouted, kicking hard, but to no avail. There was a slight pain as an object pierced me. Soon, I began to hear voices talking, one after the other. The voices sounded familiar. “Why did you make such a mistake?” a voice asked, accompanied by a blurry voice.
After gaining consciousness, I pulled myself up, feeling scattered and worrisome…
I ONCE HEARD LAUGHTER
I can’t find your face in this crowd
Darkness fills the void
It is injustice made by you
I can’t touch your hand in this crowd
War is the field
Darkness within
Darkness without
Your face covered in pain
You and I crave for love
I once heard your laughter
but that was long ago
so long ago that
I can’t make out its melody
I pray to hear it again
even its disappearing echoes
will soothe my heart.
Aisha Aliyu Bima
Darkness fills the void
It is injustice made by you
I can’t touch your hand in this crowd
War is the field
Darkness within
Darkness without
Your face covered in pain
You and I crave for love
I once heard your laughter
but that was long ago
so long ago that
I can’t make out its melody
I pray to hear it again
even its disappearing echoes
will soothe my heart.
Aisha Aliyu Bima
MY HEART BREAKS
My heart breaks
Like when an egg
Falls into the hands of a stone
My heart breaks
Like when a tornado
Hits the face of a rock
My heart breaks
Like when a rock
Smashes on an ant’s head
I am thinking of hungry children
Scavenging for food in a Greenland
I am thinking of penury
Made by your greedy hands
Worn with contentment
My heart breaks
Because I hear the dying voices of children
Whimpering against the deafening sirens of wasters
I am thinking
Thinking fragile thoughts that break the heart
Like a sledgehammer shatters the kernel
Aisha Yahaya
Like when an egg
Falls into the hands of a stone
My heart breaks
Like when a tornado
Hits the face of a rock
My heart breaks
Like when a rock
Smashes on an ant’s head
I am thinking of hungry children
Scavenging for food in a Greenland
I am thinking of penury
Made by your greedy hands
Worn with contentment
My heart breaks
Because I hear the dying voices of children
Whimpering against the deafening sirens of wasters
I am thinking
Thinking fragile thoughts that break the heart
Like a sledgehammer shatters the kernel
Aisha Yahaya
When the Pen Calls
When the Pen Calls
A medley of genres
ed.(c)2007
... is a blend of literary genres which finds expression in the creative fire of young people telling of the experience and the innocence of their own world, real and imagined, asking to be heard in a world full of noise and chaos.
The writings manifest a keen knowledge of existent challenges and evil in the society which are capable of destroying the desired life craved by the young ones.
A medley of genres
ed.(c)2007
... is a blend of literary genres which finds expression in the creative fire of young people telling of the experience and the innocence of their own world, real and imagined, asking to be heard in a world full of noise and chaos.
The writings manifest a keen knowledge of existent challenges and evil in the society which are capable of destroying the desired life craved by the young ones.
Dear Tochukwu
I hope this won’t come to you as a surprise. By the time you read this letter, I would be on my way to Lagos. I remember you telling me about your desire to see me through the university but now things aren’t getting better. Despite all odds, I just have to go.
I’ve weighed so many things, time and time again, especially what papa keeps saying, “let’s wait for tomorrow to come”. As you can see, tomorrow has refused to come. So, I’m going to meet tomorrow.
Never mind. I’ll take care of myself. The cow that has no tail, its chi drives flies off its tail. I sincerely am not sure when I’ll be back again. Please Tochukwu, I need you to take care of Mama Nnukwu. I couldn’t tell her about my leaving home. The tears she’d shed would be strong enough to make me change my mind.
A character in a novel I read told his friend he would not say goodbye because ‘goodbye” is for those who may never return from a long journey. Stay well brother mine.
Your sister
Ify
I’ve weighed so many things, time and time again, especially what papa keeps saying, “let’s wait for tomorrow to come”. As you can see, tomorrow has refused to come. So, I’m going to meet tomorrow.
Never mind. I’ll take care of myself. The cow that has no tail, its chi drives flies off its tail. I sincerely am not sure when I’ll be back again. Please Tochukwu, I need you to take care of Mama Nnukwu. I couldn’t tell her about my leaving home. The tears she’d shed would be strong enough to make me change my mind.
A character in a novel I read told his friend he would not say goodbye because ‘goodbye” is for those who may never return from a long journey. Stay well brother mine.
Your sister
Ify
January 2004, Thursday 1
Time is drifting by. Fast…like we leave it unspent. Regardless of how bad we perceive that life has treated us, hope always would come to the rescue even if we are meant to wait another century. A new day has come, for me and for you. People were jubilating and dancing. You see, even in the midst of nothing, life is worth celebrating still. Then after all the drama and noise, what comes after? No. I’m not asking you, just thinking aloud. Ike was there too. As we hugged, I earnestly prayed he could tap a little of the faith I have in him. And that in this New Year, we would learn how not to count on our losses…how not to dwell on that which we don’t have… Papa and mama called us to confirm they’re back together after eight wasted years of separation. He needed us to hear her voice to know he wasn’t kidding. Hey, is this a sign that these children of exile have a destination afterall? The day’s far gone. You too should go to sleep.
LET’S TALK FATHER
…today is my birthday, father and I am all alone with you here, thinking how it all started in your thoughts, this dream that is me. It frightens me, father, to know that the seasons of severe harmattan are yet to come.
I am not going to make a wish. Not like those times I happened upon a shooting star when I was a child. I know you won’t give me that satisfaction. All I ask of you is to grant me the long suffering spirit to follow this path which you have set before me. It is inevitably expedient that I go through these paths meant only for me…
I am not going to make a wish. Not like those times I happened upon a shooting star when I was a child. I know you won’t give me that satisfaction. All I ask of you is to grant me the long suffering spirit to follow this path which you have set before me. It is inevitably expedient that I go through these paths meant only for me…
WHEN WE MET…
…I was sure most people who came across the written piece while flipping the pages of the newspaper for important news would have dismissed it as nursery rhymes of meaningless poetry. I didn’t care about the rhyme scheme like Shakespeare would. Neither did I give a hoot about the metre as Elliot would. I never set out to be graded. I only craved to be heard. And that was where I found my voice.
v
On that day, Kenule Saro-Wiwa was killed.
v
I was broken. I wept. So Abacha didn’t read my poem. Not even Mustapha his henchman did. I could not hide the pain I felt. Uche asked me what my business was with him. Little did he know that Kenule’s death is our own death. He didn’t know either that the injustice done to Ogoni land is an evil done to us. At night, I tore out a clean sheet of paper and wrote: …
v
Few days after, Nigeria was suspended from the 54-member Commonwealth of Nations. Economic sanctions flew in from all corners. People were missing. Those who were bold enough to talk aloud were being haunted and assassinated. Neighbouring countries were under compulsion to shut their borders at us. The masses felt the brunt of it. Abacha turned a blind eye to the storm that was engulfing the land. He began to launch campaign after another to build a dynasty where he’ll be our goggled king forever…
At the passing of each day, I got restless with my emotions upturned like the spirit of the nation and her people. I would write letters, poems and scribble incorrigible things on paper and then edit them to appeal to the reader’s soft spots. Nneka said I could write all the stories there was to write in the world but warned I must shut my eyes to the affairs of the country…
v
On that day, Kenule Saro-Wiwa was killed.
v
I was broken. I wept. So Abacha didn’t read my poem. Not even Mustapha his henchman did. I could not hide the pain I felt. Uche asked me what my business was with him. Little did he know that Kenule’s death is our own death. He didn’t know either that the injustice done to Ogoni land is an evil done to us. At night, I tore out a clean sheet of paper and wrote: …
v
Few days after, Nigeria was suspended from the 54-member Commonwealth of Nations. Economic sanctions flew in from all corners. People were missing. Those who were bold enough to talk aloud were being haunted and assassinated. Neighbouring countries were under compulsion to shut their borders at us. The masses felt the brunt of it. Abacha turned a blind eye to the storm that was engulfing the land. He began to launch campaign after another to build a dynasty where he’ll be our goggled king forever…
At the passing of each day, I got restless with my emotions upturned like the spirit of the nation and her people. I would write letters, poems and scribble incorrigible things on paper and then edit them to appeal to the reader’s soft spots. Nneka said I could write all the stories there was to write in the world but warned I must shut my eyes to the affairs of the country…
NO MIND THEM
Wonder darkness.
Utter madness.
Incurable blindness.
Lost souls. Groping in caves.
Man dig pit for man. Man shit with his mouth.
Mix am with cow dung
And cover man with the shit.
e dey cry say
Make master wipe shit smell comot for im bodi.
Blind eyes. In blazing noon light see blinding darkness.
This utter madness
dey make me wonder for this darkness
that has taken us prisoners
Man steal man land. Man give man stone chop.
e cry say make master throw manna come.
Penury in Greenland.
Animal na food for man. Before.
See these yeye children
Who pour blood inside water call am wine…
Master no mind them.
…even Saint Hitler dey beg master
say make e touch the world for heart
Bedel Bokassa sef dey beg for calmness
e wan sleep for paradise where war has no bed
This incurable blindness
wey plenty darkness bring…
When you go for patrol
To see your magnificently made earth
Master abeg no cry
If you have to be guarded in an armored car
Soja man go dey for Cathedral
lest they highjack the sacrament
Man put bomb inside man soup pot.
Man life scatter like shit inside rain.
See mumu still dey cry
Say make master come quench fire for Gaza…
Master…
Master.
Master!
You see these yeye children
No mind them jo.
Utter madness.
Incurable blindness.
Lost souls. Groping in caves.
Man dig pit for man. Man shit with his mouth.
Mix am with cow dung
And cover man with the shit.
e dey cry say
Make master wipe shit smell comot for im bodi.
Blind eyes. In blazing noon light see blinding darkness.
This utter madness
dey make me wonder for this darkness
that has taken us prisoners
Man steal man land. Man give man stone chop.
e cry say make master throw manna come.
Penury in Greenland.
Animal na food for man. Before.
See these yeye children
Who pour blood inside water call am wine…
Master no mind them.
…even Saint Hitler dey beg master
say make e touch the world for heart
Bedel Bokassa sef dey beg for calmness
e wan sleep for paradise where war has no bed
This incurable blindness
wey plenty darkness bring…
When you go for patrol
To see your magnificently made earth
Master abeg no cry
If you have to be guarded in an armored car
Soja man go dey for Cathedral
lest they highjack the sacrament
Man put bomb inside man soup pot.
Man life scatter like shit inside rain.
See mumu still dey cry
Say make master come quench fire for Gaza…
Master…
Master.
Master!
You see these yeye children
No mind them jo.
HEY!
hey!
Look this way…
To your left…
tssss…
This man…
Nay.
This man walking pass…
No.
The man…
That man passing by
Hey!
If I’m caught talking…
Look this way…
To your left…
tssss…
This man…
Nay.
This man walking pass…
No.
The man…
That man passing by
Hey!
If I’m caught talking…
UNTITLED
I…
I…hate words…
Too many words…
Not spoken…
Spoken words not heard
Spoken words…falling on stones
…in shatters
I… hate too many unspoken words
That die on trembling silent lips…
I…hate words…
Too many words…
Not spoken…
Spoken words not heard
Spoken words…falling on stones
…in shatters
I… hate too many unspoken words
That die on trembling silent lips…
If only you would listen
If
only
you
would listen…
(Excerpts)
Is a collection of poetry which discusses the diverse philosophies of life, the confusion that bedevils man in his constant pursuit of daily living and the loss of the pure essence of life in a growing civilization, among various thematic preoccupations.
only
you
would listen…
(Excerpts)
Is a collection of poetry which discusses the diverse philosophies of life, the confusion that bedevils man in his constant pursuit of daily living and the loss of the pure essence of life in a growing civilization, among various thematic preoccupations.
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