The Land of Unease by Niyi Osundare

The Land of Unease

The land never knows peace

Where a few have too much

And many none at all.

The yam of this world

Is enough for all mouths

Which pay daily homage

To the god of the throat

Enough for the aged

Awaiting day's dusk

And the young peeping 

At tomorrow 

From mother's back.

Niyi Osundare

Niyi Osundare was born in 1947 in Ikere-Ekiti, Nigeria. He is a prolific writer and highly valued literary critic. In December 2014, Osundare was awarded the Nigerian National Merit Award (NNMA) for academic excellence.

The Leader and the Led, a poem by Niyi Osundare

THE LEADER AND THE LED

The Lion stakes his claim

To the leadership of the pack

But the Antelopes remember

The ferocious pounce of his paws

The hyena says the crown is made for him

But the Impalas shudder at his lethal appetite

The Giraffe craves a place in the front

But his eyes are too far from the ground

When the Zebra says it’s his right to lead

The pack points to the duplicity of his stripes

The Elephant trudges into the power tussle

But its colleagues dread his trampling feet

The warthog is too ugly

The rhino too riotous

And the pack thrashes around

Like a snake without a head

“Our need calls for a hybrid of habits”,

Proclaims the Forest Sage,

“A little bit of a Lion

A little bit of a Lamb

Tough like a tiger, compassionate like a doe

Transparent like a river, mysterious like a lake

A leader who knows how to follow

Followers mindful of their right to lead”

Niyi Osundare was born in 1947 in Ikere-Ekiti, Nigeria. He is a prolific writer and highly valued literary critic. In December 2014, Osundare was awarded the Nigerian National Merit Award (NNMA) for academic excellence.

See the analysis of The Leader and the Led 

The Celebrants, a poem by Ken Saro-Wiwa

The Celebrants

They are met once again

To beat drums of confusion

Tattooes of mediocrity

They are met once again

The new cow to lead

To the cyclic slaughterhouse

Where the blood of the last

Yet stinks to skies

Awash with the stench

Of decay and corruption.

So they come and go

Bad dreams, phantoms

In the morning mist

Meteors of a dark sky

Offal at the desecrated shrine

Still they come and go

We welcome them from rooftops

Raucous at each approach

And departure, praise-singing now

Cursing loudly later

Impious votaries of an alien sect

At whom damnation shrieks with wild delight.

Ken Saro-Wiwa 

Ken Saro-Wiwa (full name: Kenule Beeson Saro-Wiwa) was a Nigerian writer, television producer and activist, born in October 10th 1941 in Bori near Port Harcourt in Nigeria. Saro-Wiwa spoke against the country's military regime and Royal Dutch/Shell for the destruction of the environment of the Ogoni people, in his hometown of Rivers state. He was executed on November 10th 1995 in Port Harcourt after being tried by a special military tribunal for allegedly orchestrating the murder of Ogoni chiefs in a pro-government meeting. Subsequently, he was hanged by the military dictator of Nigeria, General Sani Abacha. This act of injustice aroused international outrage and led to Nigeria's suspension from the Commonwealth of Nations for more than three years.

Fire, a poem by Ken Saro-Wiwa

Fire

There is a fire in me

Burns all night and day

Flares at injustice

Leaps at oppression

Glows warmly in beauty.

Ken Saro-Wiwa 

Ken Saro-Wiwa (full name: Kenule Beeson Saro-Wiwa) was a Nigerian writer, television producer and activist, born in October 10th 1941 in Bori near Port Harcourt in Nigeria. Saro-Wiwa spoke against the country's military regime and Royal Dutch/Shell for the destruction of the environment of the Ogoni people, in his hometown of Rivers state. He was executed on November 10th 1995 in Port Harcourt after being tried by a special military tribunal for allegedly orchestrating the murder of Ogoni chiefs in a pro-government meeting. Subsequently, he was hanged by the military dictator of Nigeria, General Sani Abacha. This act of injustice aroused international outrage and led to Nigeria's suspension from the Commonwealth of Nations for more than three years.

Once Upon a Time by Gabriel Okara

Once Upon a Time

Once upon a time, son,

they used to laugh with their hearts

and laugh with their eyes:

but now they only laugh with their teeth,

while their ice-block-cold eyes

search behind my shadow.

There was a time indeed

they used to shake hands with their hearts:

but that’s gone, son.

Now they shake hands without hearts:

while their left hands search

my empty pockets.

‘Feel at home’! ‘Come again’:

they say, and when I come

again and feel

at home, once, twice,

there will be no thrice –

for then I find doors shut on me.

So I have learned many things, son.

I have learned to wear many faces

like dresses - homeface,

officeface, streetface, hostface,

cocktailface, with all their conforming smiles

like a fixed portrait smile.

And I have learned too

to laugh with only my teeth

and shake hands without my heart.

I have also learned to say, ‘Goodbye’,

when I mean ‘Good-riddance’;

to say ‘ Glad to meet you’,

without being glad; and to say ‘It’s been

nice talking to you’, after being bored.

But believe me, son.

I want to be what I used to be

when I was like you. I want

to unlearn all these muting things.

Most of all, I want to relearn

how to laugh, for my laugh in the mirror

shows only my teeth like a snake’s bare fangs !

So show me, son,

how to laugh; show me how

I used to laugh and smile

once upon a time when I was like you.

Gabriel Okara

Gabriel Imomotimi Okara was born on 25th April, 1921 in Bomoundi in Bayelsa State, Nigeria . In 1979, he was awarded the Commonwealth Poetry.