Tuesday 30 August 2022

ROAD TO 2023 - (the debt-smith) By Oletu Oghenenyore C.

ROAD TO 2023 - (the debt-smith) 

survivors 
must pay the debt money
borrowed to support terrorism
that killed their loved ones
while news correspondents 
barely noticed the contracts
and groups dragging politicians 
and civil servants
to do the right thing 
only now wave the flag in pursuit 
of their own financial interests

the debt mountain is mutating
to the tonne of trillion in white Benjamins
and unpayable as well
yet Sai Baba is addicted 
to borrow more from any finger
mostly from the Ants of Asia
to aid his debt to Niger

2023 & beyond 
as Baba chill off in Daura
survivors will chisel off
the debt mountain 
at any cost.

©® Nyore Note.

Oletu Oghenenyore

Oletu Oghenenyore C. (pen-name: Nyore Note) is a content creator, storyteller, aluminium fabricator, rebel-poet and activist whose content resonates with the everyday happening around him. He’s from Delta State but based in the Creek area of Southern Nigeria. His works have appeared in many anthologies and online journals like ArtingArena, Poemify, The Yellow House Library, Williwash, etc. He can be reached via Facebook, Twitter and Instagram @NyoreNote @Oletu Oghenenyore.

ROAD TO 2023 - (running helter skelter) By Oletu Oghenenyore C.

ROAD TO 2023 - (running helter skelter)

like a chick, i crack undisturbed eggs
eggs laid by corrupt tummies 
i read of elements so disturbing 
and unbecoming
our oil and the other unformed coins
generate plenty balloon of mischief money
banks laundering off-channel 
i saw a very dark side of the story

less political stability 
unhealthy business environment 
well-serviced foreign debts on friendly cruise
contracts are safe when the lion 
appear weak, needing oversea friendship
the cabals are preparing a seal
to cover their created devil ahead of 2023
so Obi may not crack more eggs
hence the endless meetings

©® Nyore Note.

Oletu Oghenenyore

Oletu Oghenenyore C. (pen-name: Nyore Note) is a content creator, storyteller, aluminium fabricator, rebel-poet and activist whose content resonates with the everyday happening around him. He’s from Delta State but based in the Creek area of Southern Nigeria. His works have appeared in many anthologies and online journals like ArtingArena, Poemify, The Yellow House Library, Williwash, etc. He can be reached via Facebook, Twitter and Instagram @NyoreNote @Oletu Oghenenyore.

WHY SCARS by Oletu Oghenenyore C.

WHY SCARS
By Oletu Oghenenyore C.

the past is a password 
a key, interpreting the future
it explain the present
a reminder, how we got here
scars, lessons
exploring how far our lives
have traveled.

©® Nyore Note.
26/August/2022
#NyoreNote

Oletu Oghenenyore

Oletu Oghenenyore C. (pen-name: Nyore Note) is a content creator, storyteller, aluminium fabricator, rebel-poet and activist whose content resonates with the everyday happening around him. He’s from Delta State but based in the Creek area of Southern Nigeria. His works have appeared in many anthologies and online journals like ArtingArena, Poemify, The Yellow House Library, Williwash, etc. He can be reached via Facebook, Twitter and Instagram @NyoreNote @Oletu Oghenenyore.

HUSTLER’S MOTIVATION by Oletu Oghenenyore C.

HUSTLER’S MOTIVATION

i'm a homeless not hopeless 
fear is for the brave, they thrive 
failing is a lesson cos coward lack courage
stars need darkness to survive

i’m living not lost
so many hours on the road
so many miles to go
you need courage to learn how to cry

i’m loving less not lifeless
without it, nothing is real
so many wine in the world
nothing intoxicate than serendipitous breakthrough

i’m down not sick
stalk to Jack's beanstalk
wondering when the feel of arriving will come
and success staring back at me

©® Nyore Note.
26/August/2022
#NyoreNote

Oletu Oghenenyore

Oletu Oghenenyore C. (pen-name: Nyore Note) is a content creator, storyteller, aluminium fabricator, rebel-poet and activist whose content resonates with the everyday happening around him. He’s from Delta State but based in the Creek area of Southern Nigeria. His works have appeared in many anthologies and online journals like ArtingArena, Poemify, The Yellow House Library, Williwash, etc. He can be reached via Facebook, Twitter and Instagram @NyoreNote @Oletu Oghenenyore.

LIVING BY SINKING by Oletu Oghenenyore C.

LIVING BY SINKING

when you got nothing
you got nothing to prove
you got nothing to lose

sinking to the bottom of the sea
like submarine, life take everything 
got nobody to share grief with
nobody to touch; nobody to hold 
but i walk tall like i've got everything 

when you get everything 
you've got many things to prove 
you've got many things to lose

worst hit of life at over one score plus ten
seen my World Trade Center crumble
and my missing Malaysian MH370 unsolved
night, i cry like a widow at her lover's grave 
but i spend the day like i've got everything 

looking pictures of ex-lovers on Facebook don't help
stick between finger is cancer foster home
and the bottle only cure grief for seconds 
being around this long is hope enough for sunshine 
so i live like everything's already mine.

©® Nyore Note.
26/August/2022
#NyoreNote

Oletu Oghenenyore

Oletu Oghenenyore C. (pen-name: Nyore Note) is a content creator, storyteller, aluminium fabricator, rebel-poet and activist whose content resonates with the everyday happening around him. He’s from Delta State but based in the Creek area of Southern Nigeria. His works have appeared in many anthologies and online journals like ArtingArena, Poemify, The Yellow House Library, Williwash, etc. He can be reached via Facebook, Twitter and Instagram @NyoreNote @Oletu Oghenenyore.

DEATH, THE END OF ALL THE HERE by Oletu Oghenenyore C.

DEATH, THE END OF ALL THE HERE

death 
is a wonderful 
pain killer —

sickness is gone 
worries are over
just like magic...

is God 
indeed 
not wise?

©® Nyore Note.
24/August/2022
#NyoreNote

Oletu Oghenenyore

Oletu Oghenenyore C. (pen-name: Nyore Note) is a content creator, storyteller, aluminium fabricator, rebel-poet and activist whose content resonates with the everyday happening around him. He’s from Delta State but based in the Creek area of Southern Nigeria. His works have appeared in many anthologies and online journals like ArtingArena, Poemify, The Yellow House Library, Williwash, etc. He can be reached via Facebook, Twitter and Instagram @NyoreNote @Oletu Oghenenyore.

AT LAST by Oletu Oghenenyore C.

AT LAST 
(for Tares Oburumu)

the turbulence 
couldn’t make a man of will say nay;
patience is a bitter pill
but to press the doorbell
we shine our teeth in the dark night.
our white teeth is the only light 
we’ve got in the creek.

the sky remain blue
yet Chelsea FC loss some point too
champs sometimes slow down
but class is permanent.

of his counselling and guide
it did pay off at the right time
ensample of great faith
inking with lots of pains
finally, the Lord prepare the banquet
in the presence of his enemies

©® Nyore Note.
23/August/2022
#NyoreNote

Oletu Oghenenyore

Oletu Oghenenyore C. (pen-name: Nyore Note) is a content creator, storyteller, aluminium fabricator, rebel-poet and activist whose content resonates with the everyday happening around him. He’s from Delta State but based in the Creek area of Southern Nigeria. His works have appeared in many anthologies and online journals like ArtingArena, Poemify, The Yellow House Library, Williwash, etc. He can be reached via Facebook, Twitter and Instagram @NyoreNote @Oletu Oghenenyore.

DIARY OF A BROKEN POET by Olėtu Oghėnėnyorė C.

DIARY OF A BROKEN POET

pieces of glass; old 
bottles at the sea, broken
street of notebooks
drinking and living every pages
drunk poets; phrases
here and there

leaving sunshine to seek the sun
miss train; slow trek 
to stardom; boom, air hostess 
seeking selfie
on the long run 

poetry and puzzle
born by the same parent
surviving migraines
blank brain traveling in coffee cab
and you say ‘poetry is everything’
you know you don’t mean it, you know
except you are known

write, still, just write
smile over scars

©® Nyore Note.
18/August/2022
#NyoreNote

Oletu Oghenenyore

Oletu Oghenenyore C. (pen-name: Nyore Note) is a content creator, storyteller, aluminium fabricator, rebel-poet and activist whose content resonates with the everyday happening around him. He’s from Delta State but based in the Creek area of Southern Nigeria. His works have appeared in many anthologies and online journals like ArtingArena, Poemify, The Yellow House Library, Williwash, etc. He can be reached via Facebook, Twitter and Instagram @NyoreNote @Oletu Oghenenyore.

SUICIDE by Oletu Oghenenyore C.

SUICIDE

They died before they die
Like coward plenty of times
Theirs is not sudden
They put up the signs
But we never did read
Nor reach out to any of them 
We didn’t care
Or thought they weren’t serious 

They cry out for help
Somehow, we didn’t hear
One romance the blade
And slit the arm
Red pigment coloured the arena

Another strap a rope to the neck
Like charger to a phone 
Kicked off the chair, suffocate, 
Worries fade, ending the pain

We criticize their live
When they were alive
Now they couldn’t keep their breath
We despise how be their death

©® Nyore Note.
17/August/2022
#NyoreNote
[please, reach out to everyone speaking with dark word. don't take their ‘i’m fine’ for honesty. i’ve been down that alley many times]

Oletu Oghenenyore

Oletu Oghenenyore C. (pen-name: Nyore Note) is a content creator, storyteller, aluminium fabricator, rebel-poet and activist whose content resonates with the everyday happening around him. He’s from Delta State but based in the Creek area of Southern Nigeria. His works have appeared in many anthologies and online journals like ArtingArena, Poemify, The Yellow House Library, Williwash, etc. He can be reached via Facebook, Twitter and Instagram @NyoreNote @Oletu Oghenenyore.

TRAITORS by Oletu Oghenenyore C.

TRAITORS

butcher. ladder. heaven.
taking it mentality 
minority suppressing majority
brotherhood fried
in the stew of betrayal 

©® Nyore Note.
15/August/2022
#NyoreNote

Oletu Oghenenyore

Oletu Oghenenyore C. (pen-name: Nyore Note) is a content creator, storyteller, aluminium fabricator, rebel-poet and activist whose content resonates with the everyday happening around him. He’s from Delta State but based in the Creek area of Southern Nigeria. His works have appeared in many anthologies and online journals like ArtingArena, Poemify, The Yellow House Library, Williwash, etc. He can be reached via Facebook, Twitter and Instagram @NyoreNote @Oletu Oghenenyore.

HOW TO READ A POEM by Oletu Oghenenyore C.

HOW TO READ A POEM

You read line by line, observing
The punctuation marks, all along.
Eyes on the theme, sipping
The message hidden
In the message.

Some are slow, some so fast.
Some are song, we call the ode.
Read it once. Get the 
Meaning. Read again.
Get the message.
Some are deep, not so clear.
Some you will ask questions 
To get the writer's mind

©® Nyore Note
17/August/2021

Oletu Oghenenyore

Oletu Oghenenyore C. (pen-name: Nyore Note) is a content creator, storyteller, aluminium fabricator, rebel-poet and activist whose content resonates with the everyday happening around him. He’s from Delta State but based in the Creek area of Southern Nigeria. His works have appeared in many anthologies and online journals like ArtingArena, Poemify, The Yellow House Library, Williwash, etc. He can be reached via Facebook, Twitter and Instagram @NyoreNote @Oletu Oghenenyore.

SIGNING UP FOR DELIVERANCE by Oletu Oghenenyore C.

SIGNING UP FOR DELIVERANCE

is it too late to call for help
or just surrender to fate?

searching for torchlight in high water
and the fang of hell scorching 
i always come to the party late
or so a lady say
cos i end up without a date
always.

©® Nyore Note.
11/August/2022
#NyoreNote

Oletu Oghenenyore

Oletu Oghenenyore C. (pen-name: Nyore Note) is a content creator, storyteller, aluminium fabricator, rebel-poet and activist whose content resonates with the everyday happening around him. He’s from Delta State but based in the Creek area of Southern Nigeria. His works have appeared in many anthologies and online journals like ArtingArena, Poemify, The Yellow House Library, Williwash, etc. He can be reached via Facebook, Twitter and Instagram @NyoreNote @Oletu Oghenenyore.

What Colour Are the Angels, Mama by Dele Farotimi

What Color Are The Angels, Mama

What color are the angels mama
What texture are their hairs
Do they have eyes like mine
Are their lips and noses as mine
What color are the angels mama

Is God pink like the white man
I’m taught the devil looks like me
What color are the angels mama
I don’t wanna look outta place
Is there a heaven made for us

Dele Farotimi

Dele Farotimi is a lawyer, a seasoned political activist and author. He is passionate about the birth of a new and better Nigeria. His book “Do Not Die in Their War” is a treatise on Nigeria’s contemporary political trajectories. He is a seasoned public speaker, member of Citizens’ Rally against Oppression (RAMINBA), and author. He was called to the Nigerian bar in the year 1999 and remained in active legal practice until his retirement in 2018 at the age of 50.




Not Funny! by Dele Farotimi

The day is coming... by Dele Farotimi

The day is coming

The day is coming
It is inevitable.
It would dawn unexpected.
But the day of reckoning is at hand
I can feel it in my bones
That the day is at hand

An accounting shall be had
Let all who hold others down beware
That they are themselves enslaved
Even as the ones they have oppressed
The day is at hand
The captives shall be freed

Dele Farotimi

Dele Farotimi is a lawyer, a seasoned political activist and author. He is passionate about the birth of a new and better Nigeria. His book “Do Not Die in Their War” is a treatise on Nigeria’s contemporary political trajectories. He is a seasoned public speaker, member of Citizens’ Rally against Oppression (RAMINBA), and author. He was called to the Nigerian bar in the year 1999 and remained in active legal practice until his retirement in 2018 at the age of 50.

Weep for Shame!!! by Dele Farotimi

Weep for Shame!!!

Adorn your sackclothes
Anoint your heads with ashes
Wail at dusk, and be not consoled
Blessed beyond belief
But beggars become!
Weep! And be not consoled

Weep for shame, debased, debauched
Lost to lust, and immune to shame
The brooding hen, that eats its own eggs
The lion that snacks on its own cubs
They live with mortality forgotten
Content to feast on all the morrows

The firewood evidences the tree that was
Even as the flames are succeeded by the ashes
When the banana tree is felled
In its stead would several abound
When our season is done as it must
What shall the victims inherit from us?

Weep for shame and be not consoled
They will inherit the paradise being built today
Colonists and imperialists would be long gone
Replaced by Messers WhoWeDon’tKnow yet
No hypocritical protestations about human rights
All is cash and carry in the market to come

Be inconsolable, whatever the pleas
Just this once, be covered in shame
How will you explain your failure to them
Will you blame it on some other “them”?
When your flame is done, would there be ashes?
Would your plantain shoots survive?

The coward might very well endure his peace
The peace purchased at the cost of his peace
The Brave’s walls might lie in ruins
But even the Careful’s walls shall yet collapse
All of Creation, marching inexorably
Behold tomorrow now, and wail today

Dele Farotimi

Dele Farotimi is a lawyer, a seasoned political activist and author. He is passionate about the birth of a new and better Nigeria. His book “Do Not Die in Their War” is a treatise on Nigeria’s contemporary political trajectories. He is a seasoned public speaker, member of Citizens’ Rally against Oppression (RAMINBA), and author. He was called to the Nigerian bar in the year 1999 and remained in active legal practice until his retirement in 2018 at the age of 50.

Once Upon A NANS by Dele Farotimi

Once Upon A NANS

Where were they, when we bled?
Where were they, when we wept?
Were they shown the scars?
Have they seen the severed limbs?
Who has shown them the graves?

Did we tell them our stories?
Have we shown them the way?
What exactly did we expect?
Of a generation sold, at birth?
What heroes have we raised?

They have sold out, we bellow!
Sold out to whom? We should ask
The same slavers that bought the fathers
Have returned to harvest the offsprings
Allooting continua! Enslavement assured

Who has told of the wars of Ekpoma?
Have they heard of the dead at Samaru?
Do they know of Adekunle, omo Adepegba?
Who has told of Kunle Sonowo?
And we condemn them, who we failed to lead

When we’re done condemning the victims
Perhaps we should all, the mirror behold
How has these children, differed from us
Who behold the lies, tongue tied
For fear the food should fall from our mouths

Dele Farotimi

Dele Farotimi is a lawyer, a seasoned political activist and author. He is passionate about the birth of a new and better Nigeria. His book “Do Not Die in Their War” is a treatise on Nigeria’s contemporary political trajectories. He is a seasoned public speaker, member of Citizens’ Rally against Oppression (RAMINBA), and author. He was called to the Nigerian bar in the year 1999 and remained in active legal practice until his retirement in 2018 at the age of 50.





Massa Ain't Gone by Dele Farotimi

Massa Ain't Gone

Him’s just round the corner
Him own all of the corn
Cause him’s just a con
And him call me a coon

Massa left the “Nationalists”
Only three nations heard
Only three summoned
Amongst hundreds of nations

Independent anew
Lies planted in fertile soils
Food soon aplenty
Undertakers and carrion

But Massa ain’t gone
Alahu Akbar and hallelujah!
Red Cross and the red hued crescent
Massa is kind, simply to a fault

Massa ain’t gone to be sure
Our Demoncrazy is growing
Learning from the feet of Massa
The plantation is booming anew

Dele Farotimi

Dele Farotimi is a lawyer, a seasoned political activist and author. He is passionate about the birth of a new and better Nigeria. His book “Do Not Die in Their War” is a treatise on Nigeria’s contemporary political trajectories. He is a seasoned public speaker, member of Citizens’ Rally against Oppression (RAMINBA), and author. He was called to the Nigerian bar in the year 1999 and remained in active legal practice until his retirement in 2018 at the age of 50.

Get a Life... by Dele Farotimi

Get a Life..

To live forever, be prepared to die,

To live on purpose, be shorn of fear,

Devoid of fear, we cease to care,

For the scions of men, we live sans fear,

Fears are chains, designed to bound.

Faith, the breaker of chains woven by fear.  

Dele Farotimi

Dele Farotimi is a lawyer, a seasoned political activist and author. He is passionate about the birth of a new and better Nigeria. His book “Do Not Die in Their War” is a treatise on Nigeria’s contemporary political trajectories. He is a seasoned public speaker, member of Citizens’ Rally against Oppression (RAMINBA), and author. He was called to the Nigerian bar in the year 1999 and remained in active legal practice until his retirement in 2018 at the age of 50.

Would Heaven Be Kinder? Dele Farotimi


I am born endangered wherever I turn
It doesn’t matter, where I am born
From the sands of the Sahara
To the shores of the mighty Atlantic

The trees that grows on the rocks
The hardy shrubs of the Sahara
They have better odds than me
I am named after my murderers

I am the African child!
I am the nameless slave!
I am the one that you daily choke!
I am the one you have made hollow!

I worship your gods!
Mine watched as you fettered me
The chief priests traded in men
The chiefs became traders of brothers

When you tired of feeding slaves
You destroyed my holy places
Endangered in your protectorate
Enslaved, exploited, in your colonies

The African gods are unknown
Esu laalu became born again
Reborn as satan and or sheitan
The heresy of Abraham’s seeds

 

The Allah of Ishmael, Son of Abe
Was called to justify my fetters
The Bible came with the slaving ships
Ajayi Crowther did not Moses become

Today I wander, rootless, void
Emptied of the essence of who I am
Enslaved at home, in chains abroad
Where is my place under the sun

The cousins taken in chains
They are games hunted by men
Trophies to be displayed in proof
Of the inhumanity of man, to man

We that are enslaved at home
Have long preferred the chains abroad
Only the insane have ignored to flee
Death stalks by day, noon, and dusk

The heaven promised to Abe’s boys
Would there be space for me too
Or would the heaven meant for me
Be as desolate as the land of my birth

Would your heaven be kinder to me
Are we going to have a section for me
I cannot be twice destined for hell
I have already lived as a black man

Dele Farotimi

Dele Farotimi is a lawyer, a seasoned political activist and author. He is passionate about the birth of a new and better Nigeria. His book “Do Not Die in Their War” is a treatise on Nigeria’s contemporary political trajectories. He is a seasoned public speaker, member of Citizens’ Rally against Oppression (RAMINBA), and author. He was called to the Nigerian bar in the year 1999 and remained in active legal practice until his retirement in 2018 at the age of 50.




I Am Not Black by Dele Farotimi

I Am Not Black….

(They Never Stopped The Trade)

Lambs might be black
And yes, some be white
I’ve seen a few that’s tan
And quite a few, are speckled

Oh! The beautiful jaguar
Some as black as coal
The darkness of night
But I am not black

I could be chocolate
Hewn from the inedible pods
Grown in my fields
Owned by me for you

I might even be coffee
You own those fields too
I send you the sacked beans
You send me my sack clothes

None of them is white
And I’ve seen a few that’s pink
And they’re also red sometime
Always a good time to flee

Be not fooled by the claim
I be not black, and you ain’t white
All we are, are human beings
I bleed red, and so do you

But how do I the racist fool blame
Have our fathers not declared
Your usage of your chattels
Shall assay its value for others

George Floyd was his name
Trophy he was, for a racist cop
Tina Ezekwe was her name
Killed by a Killandgo in Lagos

Oceans apart, united in death
Untimely, unnecessary, inhuman
Systemic, endemic, pandemic
Slave masters, traders, enforcers

The corrupt Africans loot
Loots kept in oyinbo vaults
We are fantastically corrupt
And they are fantastically angelic

Brethren, look again
They never stopped the trade
They merely changed the rules
The slave markets are booming

Dele Farotimi

Dele Farotimi is a lawyer, a seasoned political activist and author.  He is passionate about the birth of a new and better Nigeria. His book “Do Not Die in Their War” is a treatise on Nigeria’s contemporary political trajectories. He is a seasoned public speaker, member of Citizens’ Rally against Oppression (RAMINBA), and author. He was called to the Nigerian bar in the year 1999 and remained in active legal practice until his retirement in 2018 at the age of 50.



Monday 29 August 2022

Visiting Zomba Plateau by Jack Mapanje

Visiting Zomba Plateau

Could I have come back to you to wince
Under the blur of your negatives,
To sit before braziers without the glow
Of charcoal, to cringe at your rivers
That without their hippos and crocs
Merely trickle gratingly down, to watch
Dragonflies that no longer fascinate and
Puff adders that have lost their puff?
Where is your charming hyena tail –
Praying mantis who cared for prayers once?
Where is the spirit that touched the hearts
Lightly – chameleon colours of home?
Where is your creation myth? Have I come
To witness the carving and jingling only of
Your bloated images and piddling mirrors?

Jack Mapanje

Jack Mapanje is a Malawian poet and currently a Senior Lecturer in Creative Writing at the University of Newcastle upon Tyne. He is the author of 4 collections of poetry, the editor of several more, and the recipient of awards including the Rotterdam Poetry International Award and the African Literature Association (USA) Fonlon-Nichols Award.

Scrubbing the Furious Walls of Mikuyu by Jack Mapanje

"Of all the prison poems I've written I think this is my favourite little one. We were asked to scrub the walls of the prison to clean the place up and we saw on one wall graffiti and several prisoners refused to touch it, to scrub it out, because it was good. It was a rude statement about the country's politics, hence this poem."

Scrubbing The Furious Walk Of Mikuyu

Is this where they dump those rebels,
These haggard cells stinking of bucket
Shit and vomit and the acrid urine of
Yesteryears? Who would have thought I
Would be gazing at these dusty, cobweb
Ceilings of Mikuyu Prison, scrubbing
Briny walls and riddling out impetuous
Scratches of another dung-beetle locked
Up before me here? Violent human palms
Wounded these blood-bloated mosquitoes
And bugs (to survive), leaving these vicious
Red marks. Monstrous flying cockroaches
Crashed here. Up there the cobwebs trapped
Dead bumblebees. Where did black wasps
Get clay to build nests in this corner?

But here, scratches, insolent scratches!
I have marvelled at the rock paintings
Of Mphunzl Hills once but these grooves
And notches on the walls of Mikuyu Prison,
How furious, what barbarous squiggles!
How long did this anger languish without
Charge, without trial, without visit here, and
What justice committed? This is the moment
We dreaded: when we’d all descend into
The pit, alone, without a wife or a child –
Without mother; without paper or pencil
– Without a story (just three Bibles for
Ninety men), without charge without trial;
This is the moment I never needed to see.

Shall I scrub these brave squiggles out
Of human memory then or should I perhaps
Superimpose my own, less caustic; dare I
Overwrite this precious scrawl? Who’d
Have known I’d find another prey without
Charge, without trial (without bitterness)
In these otherwise blank walls of Mikuyu
Prison? No, I will throw my water and mop
Elsewhere. We have liquidated too many
Brave names out of the nation’s memory.
I will not rub out another nor inscribe
My own, more ignoble, to consummate this
Moment of truth I have always feared!

Jack Mapanje

Jack Mapanje is a Malawian poet and currently a Senior Lecturer in Creative Writing at the University of Newcastle upon Tyne. He is the author of 4 collections of poetry, the editor of several more, and the recipient of awards including the Rotterdam Poetry International Award and the African Literature Association (USA) Fonlon-Nichols Award.

The Seashells of Bridlington North Beach by Jack Mapanje

"My family and I visited the seaside in the North of England, in Bridlington, and this comes out of that visit."

The Seashells Of Bridlington North Beach
(for Mercy Angela)

She hated anything caged, fish particularly,
Fish caged in glass boxes, ponds, whatever;

‘Reminds me of prisons and slavery,’ she said;
So, when first she caught the vast green view

Of Bridlington North Beach shimmering that
English summer day, she greeted the sight like

A Sahara girl on parched feet, cupping, cupping,
Cupping the water madly, laundering her palms,

Giggling and laughing. Then rubbing the hands
On her skin, she threw her bottom on the sandy

Beach and let the sea breathe in and out on her
As she relaxed her crossed legs – ‘Free at last!’

She announced to the beach crowds oblivious;
And as the seascape rallied and vanished at her

Feet, she mapped her world, ‘The Netherlands
We visited must be here: Norway, Sweden there;

Beyond that Russia!’ Then gathering more sea-
shells and selecting them one by one, she turned

To him, ‘Do you remember eating porridge from
Beach shells once?’ He nodded, smiling at another

Memory of the African lakes they were forced to
Abandon, ‘Someday, perhaps I’ll take that home

To celebrate!’ She said staring into the deep sea.
Today her egg-like pebbles, her pearls of seashells

Still sparkle at the windowsill; her wishes still ring,
‘Change regularly the water in the receptacles to

Keep the pebbles and seashells shining – you’ll
See, it’s a lot healthier than feeding caged fish!’

Jack Mapanje

Jack Mapanje is a Malawian poet and currently a Senior Lecturer in Creative Writing at the University of Newcastle upon Tyne. He is the author of 4 collections of poetry, the editor of several more, and the recipient of awards including the Rotterdam Poetry International Award and the African Literature Association (USA) Fonlon-Nichols Award.

Songs of Chickens by Jack Mapanje

Song Of Chickens

Master, you talked with bows,
Arrows and catapults once
Your hands steaming with hawk blood
To protect your chicken.

Why do you talk with knives now,
Your hands teeming with eggshells
And hot blood from your own chicken?
Is it to impress your visitors?

Jack Mapanje

Jack Mapanje is a Malawian poet and currently a Senior Lecturer in Creative Writing at the University of Newcastle upon Tyne. He is the author of 4 collections of poetry, the editor of several more, and the recipient of awards including the Rotterdam Poetry International Award and the African Literature Association (USA) Fonlon-Nichols Award.

Like a Firefly... by Segun Akinlolu (Beautiful Nubia)

Like A Firefly…

Did you see the effulgent moon
When it fell the other night?
I was there in its bright showers
Glowing, I sang my ecstatic abandon
And caught your eyes in a crowd.
We were there, both of us, in your eyes.
We plucked the rainbow and rode its arc,
Sliding down each bar of colour
We heard solemn laughter woven in blinding hues.
We were free then in an instant
All our pains dissolving
We sat and smelled the moist earth
I gathered the sand, gathered you
We danced and laughed…
I am still right here where you left me
Deep in your liquid eyes
Your eyes call
Your lips, in their smack, a dare
I am caught and I need to know now,
What resides in your wink?
What, this dare in your stare?
Wet is the ache you left me
I seek you (and I am foolish to)
I seek to roam the deep tunnels of you
I seek the hills and the valleys
The pliant and the sodden
I seek your rivers
I will swim, and drink and drown
I seek your efflorescent core
To burn in my desperate need
Tender ball of fire, lick me!

Segun Akinlolu

Segun Akinlolu popular known as Beautiful Nubia is a talented musician and guitarist. He is a graduate of University Ibadan, he is the author of "Waiting for the Bones", "Thinking Big", "Sounds of Joy", "Book of Songs, Citadel Blues", "A Wordmerchant's Logbook" (an anthology). He has recorded numerous mind-blowing albums and has won the hearts of decent music lovers in Nigeria.

If Nigeria Must Be Great by Segun Akinlolu (Beautiful Nubia)

If Nigeria Must Be Great

If Nigeria must be changed
From this home of pain and hurt
Fruitless struggles of weak limbs
Where the sunrise critic, voluble and visible
Repots in the mire of a mite prompt
Each of us must read the past
Scrutinise today
And rewrite tomorrow.

If Nigeria must be fed
Not left-overs and garbage dessert
But fresh fruits of deserved sweat
If scrawny big-bellied, monster kids
Must wear the sweet, endearing smile
Of the newspaper toddler
And our old ones bent and gray
Must smile wrinkles into the earth
Each one of us must till the land
Fill its womb
And pray for rain.

If Nigeria must be well
And our healing havens healed
If we must rid the streets
Of incoherent words of the fleeing head
Rotten wounds like flooded graves
If our wombs must yield
Of grunts and sighs
Live babies with pink toes
Bellowing the pleasing noise of the newborn
If the likes of Nwamaka of Iziala
Must cease to lick your boots
For a fortune to treat little maladies
Each of us must grow a heart
Pump out its blood
Rejuvenate these lives.

If Nigeria must be great
It has to wear a new face
Home pleasing to the weary heart
A rebirth must commence
In you and in me
For we are the system
Rotten today, valueless
We are the future
The ones who must die
On this cross.

Segun Akinlolu

Segun Akinlolu popular known as Beautiful Nubia is a talented musician and guitarist. He is a graduate of University Ibadan, he is the author of "Waiting for the Bones", "Thinking Big", "Sounds of Joy", "Book of Songs, Citadel Blues", "A Wordmerchant's Logbook" (an anthology). He has recorded numerous mind-blowing albums and has won the hearts of decent music lovers in Nigeria.

Can't You See? by Segun Akinlolu (Beautiful Nubia)

Can’t You See?

I am so happy,
So happy I haven’t eaten
In three weeks and a night.
In your eyes I see confusion,
Oh well, my happiness I can explain-
I have seven sons,
They live in our marbled mansion
Under the bridge at Falomo;
I’ve got a wonderful woman,
She wears her suffering well
You can see her if you look carefully
At Agege, with our last son
Under a multi-coloured umbrella
Safe from the sun and the rain
Naked to the world.

I feel so secure
I’ve got friends in high places
Some of them are in heaven, others in hell
They died just as they lived,
Despised and lonely
But really, what more can a man ask for
Than a chance to have his rotten body claimed
By the Task Force on Pollution
And be given a state burial,
What more?

We don’t whisper here-
We cry, we shout, we groan
We sigh, we gasp, we moan-
No, we don’t whisper here.
We don’t linger here-
We run, we jump, we drill
We kick, we grapple, we kill-
No, we don’t linger here.
We don’t gather here-
We crouch, we huddle, we bend
You are hot, you are cold, then… you are dead!
No, we don’t gather here.
Who needs people anyway?
Alone, I came into this world
Alone, I will leave!

I am so rich,
So rich I feel like them
Our men in high places
Maggot-meal in flowing agbada
But, why should I not be happy?
I’ve got seven sons under a bridge at Falomo,
I’ve got a wonderful woman
At Agege under an umbrella,
And I’ve just found me a new one
She’s only eighteen but she’s seen the world…
So, why should I not be happy,
What more can a man ask for-
Some coins, some rags, a bridge,
A chance to have your rotten body
Claimed by the Task Force on Pollution
And be given a state burial-
What more can a man ask for?
You tell me, what more?

Segun Akinlolu

Segun Akinlolu popular known as Beautiful Nubia is a talented musician and guitarist. He is a graduate of University Ibadan, he is the author of "Waiting for the Bones", "Thinking Big", "Sounds of Joy", "Book of Songs, Citadel Blues", "A Wordmerchant's Logbook" (an anthology). He has recorded numerous mind-blowing albums and has won the hearts of decent music lovers in Nigeria.

The Real Story of Our Lives by Segun Akinlolu (Beautiful Nubia)

The Real Story Of Our Lives

Perhaps it will soon dawn on us,
As we age in crumbling dreams,
That one is but the extension of the other
And life is a gift to share
With a smile, a hug, a pat…,
An encouraging wink
And collective laughter…
These little gifts go a long way
And we will only know peace
When we learn to give,
Of ourselves and each day,
Little doses of love
And honest warmth.

We are the beginning
Of our own tears
And the end
Of all our joys.

Segun Akinlolu

Segun Akinlolu popular known as Beautiful Nubia is a talented musician and guitarist. He is a graduate of University Ibadan, he is the author of "Waiting for the Bones", "Thinking Big", "Sounds of Joy", "Book of Songs, Citadel Blues", "A Wordmerchant's Logbook" (an anthology). He has recorded numerous mind-blowing albums and has won the hearts of decent music lovers in Nigeria.

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 ...