Africa culture/tradition

African Proverbs 10

Here is an interesting Akan tribe (Ghana) proverb: a rat says, what belongs to me, is in my stomach and not in my mouth.

Explanation: True ownership of something needs no advertising.

Love and Christianity

Sow Love

It was Israel More who said: “You should either be like the candle that produces light or like a mirror which reflects it. Pray for love; sow love, show love and share love.”

“…By this shall all men know that you are my disciples – if you love one another.” Jesus Christ (John 13.35)

“Ignite the fire of loving kindness in your soul, fuel that fire with understanding and compassion for others, and start a bonfire of love worldwide.” Nanette Matthews.

I wish I could share all the love that’s in my heart. Remove all the bars that keep us apart.” Lighthouse Family.

As the month end, be a candle that shines out love or a mirror that reflects it.


When there was love

When there was love, I saw the clouds
Clear like the sweet spring water
Leaping, joyfully from rocks,
Falling, washing pebbles white,
And rushing to feed unknown lands


Diary of a Village Boy: The Leopard Spirit 2

It was evening when I reached Mazi Kenem’s house. Father had asked me to return a basket borrowed from the old man during the new yam festival. It was an old basket, most of the raffia used to weave it was damaged.

The evening breeze and cloudy skies painted a vague but hopeful imagery in my imagination. Birds flew in echelon. Their cries sounding across the horizon. I wished I could be like the birds, flying from troubles and people who create them to lands far, far away. I shrugged at the thought of leaving town. What if the Leopard spirit followed me to wherever I run to and there was no Dibia to pacify and cage it? I sighed.

Mazi Kenem was preparing to leave when I arrived. He had tattered white hair all over his face and held a walking stick as if it was his third leg. His hands shook with age and one eye lid sagged.

“Mazi, ndeewo sir,” I hailed him.

“Ndeewo, my child. I can see your father finally agreed to return my basket after so many months!” He gave a short laugh which made his moustache look like twigs sitting on his upper lip.

“He sends his greeting and gratitude as well.” I smiled and handed the basket to him.

“Come, my son.” He held my arm as I turned to leave. His grip was strong and for once I felt something, something extraordinary taking over me. It seemed I had blood pumping through my veins. My nerves tightened and I perceived a presence of something I’m yet to decipher. “Take it easy,” he said. “I just want to talk. Come sit with me for a while”. He felt my pulse and the tightening nerves and strange feelings went away. He smiled again.

“Do you know about me, sir?” I asked.

“Sure, my son. Do you think your father will send you to return an old useless basket?” He smiled again. He brought out an old box and generously fed his nostrils with snuff, shaking his head to hit his mark home. Some minutes passed by and it seemed like hours to me. When he finally got hold of himself he narrated the mysteries I feared most and how I can even control and bid the Leopard spirit to do my wish. “You see, I was your grandfather’s best friend in this village. He was a great Dibia of our time and no one dared challenge him. Once a stranger from outside this village challenged him to a race and when the day for racing arrived, a heavy storm came. The stranger attempted to run in the storm and was struck by lightning. Your grandfather ran all the way through lightning and thunder, through seven hills and across seven rivers and eventually won. He killed a Leopard during a hunt and the spirit of the animal was invoked on him as is our tradition” Mazi Kenem was nodding as he told the story. His eyes were nearly closed.

“But why did he chose me?” I asked.

“No warrior with an animal spirit dies without transferring his powers to living relatives. Your grandfather would have hidden this power or transferred it to someone not related to him but it can only be given to a blood relative. If he died with the power it will turn to a curse to his generation. He could have given it to your father but he chose you and there must be a reason! He was a great medecine man, he could conjure and feast with spirits of the dead. People rumored he could flood the village with rain and can make rain fall for a week! You might not know this but you bear a power, greater than a kings! But my child, this power comes with costs. You are very young, with time you will understand. There is no cause for panicking, if you follow my instructions nothing will harm your leopard or even you.”

I was scared to hear that if any harm came to my spirit animal then I will be harmed as well. I shrugged remembering the unexplainable pain I had one morning. My left arm was broken but when the physician who set bones came he discovered no physical wound…

To be continued

Africa Poetry

When Beauty Fades by Okoroji Chidiebere Alexander

I can feel comfortable with flowers,
What a beauty!
What an aroma!!
I can’t resist the gentle,
Pure and, how sacred they are,
What else can life be proud of?
I’m really proud of life’s many beauty,
And many lies.
But here beauty fades,
Like addiction,
It becomes uninteresting,
With time,
It loses its value,
It becomes nothing,
Right there, we start noticing,
All that which used to be enticing,
Becomes scaring.
But where beauty march with the brains,
The outcome is unimaginable,
They both collide to make meaning,
Makes life worth living,
And it gives a sense of belonging,
Beauty with brain is knowledge,
Which last for eternity.
Beauty fades,
Intelligence doesn’t,
Beauty gives immediate excitements,
Intelligent makes it last,
Beauty compliment appearance,
Intelligent appreciate it.
When beauty fades,
We have nothing left,
But when intelligent is improved,
We gain everything.
Beauty is derived from birth,
While Intelligent sustains it.
Nature Uncategorized

Himalayan in pictures by Urvsh

My friend Urvsh is holidaying in the Himalayan. She shares with us her images and videos.

The Himalayan range is located in the Indian subcontinent. Mt Everest, K2 and Kanchenjunga, some of the world’s highest peaks lies in the Himalayan range.


Legend of Wawadomea: First Wave of sails

There are dreams I like to forget. These dreams came, went and when I wake I find myself still wallowing in my own reverie. These dreams gave me illusions and changed the way I perceived the pirates. After the quick fight with the cannibals of Juren, a small island off the coast of the bigger island of Shark, the Lifnante decided to have some rest on the nearest land. We had sailed for many days without the sight of land and everywhere was the sign of gloom. Some pirates drank themselves to stupor, staggering, some heading for their beds and some picking fights as usual. I could see Sundjata peer through his binoculars and my curiosity got hold of me. There was only one way to find out what this young pirate sought. I quickly ran to the Ships head, scaling the stairs, two at a time.

“Hallo” I cried.

“Well, hi!” He replied after lowering the lens to see the intruder. I shifted a bit, trying not to show my unease. He must have noticed. “Dont worry little fella, there’s no cannibal around here.” He said reassuringly. Goodness, he always read my mind. The encounter with the cannibals was bloody and I wish not to experience such again.

“So what were you staring at?” I asked stupidly, faking a smile.

“Oh!” He grunted. “A legend has it that here, just somewhere near this piece of ocean, the Snake Fish lives here and if this legend is true we might likely meet them”. He was trying to speak correctly, perhaps he did for I felt fear grow in me. I shuddered at the thought of big living monsters. What excitement does he derive knowing that a disaster was out there, waiting for the Wave? That was Sundjata, always making serious issues trivial. Then a shout of land rented the air from Crocker, the ships heralder.

“Ahoy, Ahoy! Lande! Lande!! I sighte lande!” He yelled, excitement written all over him. I saw the pirates all rush out from their hideouts, arranged in different groups whispering, talking almost at the same time. The Lifnante came out with his silver plated binoculars. At one swing of his strong hands he raised it to his face.

“Aye! That is some land, some good land. Well done boy” he said. “All to sails!” Then like a sounded bugle everybody moved to their duty posts.

Ay Cap’n, rented the quietness of the ship. Such an effort it was for the ship was directed towards this strange and lonely island, sitting on a volcanic rock. Small tug boats were lowered and some pirates paddled away. I was in a boat with Sundjata and five other pirates. From the boats we could see the island close in. Glittering sand, white beaches, and fine shiny pebbles. It seemed that no man ever set foot on the island. The hinterlands harbored a forest and from our closeness we could hear the birds cry. Behind the forest, the Volcano stood majestically, bidding us welcome, extending Greek gifts to us. My excitement gave way to uncertainty. I wasn’t sure I wanted this.

“Stay with me boy, leave not my side for any reason.” I heard Sundjata whisper. Sincerely my whole being longed for the woods and for freedom, some quietness from the noisy pirates. Glancing over to Sundjata, I could see two pistols dangle about his sides and a sword hidden in his pants. I looked up and smiled mischievously at his glare. Then the boats hit the beach sands, and all climbed off running up the sands, trying to out run the others, to reach the riches and warmth of the island before anyone else. It was a holiday from the long sea voyages and a happy one.

Night was on her way trifle shy. Anyone who ever took solace on the Night betrayed himself. Don’t mind me, I actually stole the Lifnante’s quote book. But Night cares for no one, and cold nights are cruel to those who took refuge in her arms. I heard the Lifnante give orders for camping. All about the island many camps were set for the coming evening. Some pirates stayed back on the Wave, and those were sick or older pirates and slaves who worked in the Wave. The camps sprang up in few minutes and then cooking for the night commenced. Some fish caught from the sea were cooked in coconut oil and many more were smoked on bonfires. The smell of fish cooking in coconut oil aroused my appetite. It was long since I ate properly cooked food! Some pirates played soft tunes with guitars, whistles and every musical instrument they had on them.

I got a plateful of fish and with delight I set about eating. It was then that I saw a movement in the forest. Like a flash, something moved through the woods. Again and again, I saw it. I decided to investigate, but my courage failed me. Reporting to the Lifnante and the merry pirates would spoil the calm and cool evening merriment. I saw the movement again. Now I was sure that something was out there and my mind played no games. I dropped my plate and walked up to Sundjata. He was playing cards with some pirates.

“This is pay back. Now it will cost you another Nickel,” he growled, laughing at his opponents. The pirates were all talking…

To be continued


Paper People by Harry Baker

Excellent spoken poetry! Enjoy.


Diary of a Village Boy: The Leopard Spirit

When Dibia Ndem left our home that evening, I wanted to follow him outside my father’s compound. I wanted answers, I wanted to ask how he knew it was my Leopard that destroyed the Boar that almost wrecked my Uncle’s farm.

Yesterdays nightmare was the worst I ever had. I dreamt of a long brawl that resulted to the death of a Boar. In that dream the Leopard attacked a Boar which was busy digging up newly planted yam seedlings. In the morning my bones felt broken and I could barely move my legs and arms. When Nene served my breakfast of warm oil soup and boiled cocoyam, I asked her if she witnessed any event the previous night.

Dede, at a point I thought you had convulsion or epilepsy,” she replied. “You grunted like a buffalo, twisted here and there like a string in the wind and Mumi said you were possessed…” It was common for Nene to call me bighead, but on this occasion, she chose not to. Maybe she felt pity and my pain.

“Thank you Nene, that will be all.” I cut her short.

But eloquent Nene would not listen, she narrated how Dibia Ndem held my palms and squeezed crushed Alligator pepper mixed with chalk and other things into my eyes to keep me awake through the night. She walked away when I insisted that she stopped talking. She was too young to understand that I was possessed by Grandfather’s spirit animal. Dibia Ndem revealed that the initiation came long before I was born. I now bore the burden of another- a deceased grandfather who without consulting me, transferred his powers to me.

It was the talk of the clan, I overheard people discuss the wild cat that bothered the surrounding villages and each time they mention that it was a Leopard I shrug and hope that it was not my spirit animal. People around Nkilije had special powers to conjure and use spirits of animals for security, for power or even as a means of retaliation.

Father had brought several concoctions and charms for me and when Dibia Ndem advised him not to send me to college yet, he shook his head like a lizard stuck in a bottle. He has always bragged about his intelligent boy and how I will someday return to help build a school in my village. I never had considered finishing school talkless of building one in my village. That’s my father’s ideas, not mine. The person that got me interested in attending school was Fata, the young girl from my village who also wrote and passed the Entrance exam. She received her admission letter to City College, Mbammam even before me. She was fair with red cheeks that looks like roses in the noon sun. Mother was light hearted, she cried herself to sleep each time the spirit animal was on a mission and took possession of me…

To be continued


African Proverbs 9

We should put out fire while it is still small… Kenyan proverb.

There’s an Igbo version for this proverb: Remove the Monkeys hand from soup pot before it turns to a man’s hand.

Explanation: This proverb is the English version of nip it in the bud.

Africa Poetry

Ruptured Emotion by Deborah Nnagbo

The cry was deep and internal.
The smile was blue and unreal.
The little jitters of unrest made marmot parade on her chocolate face.

She has a curse to carry through the streets of life.
A lump in her sore throat.
A choking smell of betrayal, swimming in and out her tiny nostrils.

Did you not hear when she coughed her plea?
Even a spiny hope could have stopped the pee.
But all three in a lonely hemisphere in the distant west,
Neither stooped to dust her worries.

Oh! Now she’s a million miles away.
Stitching the torn pieces of her ruptured emotion,
Just so she doesn’t turn a sadist.

If you think her lines beckons your guilt.
Then you’re more guilty than the devil himself.
You that was of all three most adored.
A friend in the distant land.

I’m only a messenger of her thoughts, her wish is my command.
This message I bring to you from the one who fights tirelessly day and night to fix her ruptured emotions.


©Nnagbo, Deborah Udochukwu


Humble Home by ‘Jindu Iroegbu

I came home to see my little brother’s drawing. He tries his hands on drawing and painting, and the least I can do is to encourage him. His work is littered all around the house, mostly in the living room. As you can see he had included his name in this drawing. 😀

This is a traditional African home, made of bamboo and roofed with grass. There’s a stair and a suspension made of strong bamboo stalk. This house is typical of the Niger Delta peoples of Southern Nigeria. ‘Jindu explains that this house portrays humility and contentment. And I call it “The Humble Home”, with his permission of course.


Image by Favour ‘Jindu Iroegbu


Wild Colors

Sweet and wonderful are smell of dry air in the breezy and solitary open
LIke that of bread soaked in margarine, quasi burned in the oven

The taste is remindful of romantic acquaintances hewn to fields of Roses
Stretched afar, to where the lands open to other lands of colors and scents

The fineness of delicious scents, nose-alluring grow with the passing wind
The signal it passes undiluted, without mix of any kind, unpurified

Sometimes these scents come from the forsaken wild,
From dusts, pushed about by the browned roadside

Lonely nights come with these memories of pretty smells
Designed, packaged and yet revealed by Nature to all

Africa culture/tradition Igbo culture Uncategorized

Sunset in Ovim

Yesterday I trekked to the market square. During my lonely trek I met old friends and distant relatives. As noted before, in Africa we place much value on family and friends.

My trek was short, because the market was just around the corner. I bought two pieces of dried meat from a vendor, one for myself and the other for a distant relative who I ran into. After several pleasantries were exchanged with people and observing the sudden change in evening breeze, I decided to leave. Night was on her way.

Nothing changed since I left. The sunflies still bother me and other fair skinned people. The flies disturb before and after sun rise. Sun light is their nemesis.

I’m laying down enjoying the quiet evening, listening to the crickets and bugs quiz themselves. From the background, I hear children play outside and smell of cooking in the community. My dinner will be Fufu and Egusi soup, haha! Fufu is uhm, we call it swallow. It’s made from Cassava.

There’s an image of sun set. Nothing compares to quiet places.

Africa culture/tradition Igbo culture Nature Pastoral

A poem for Ovim, Isuikwuato

Morning wakes with the sun
Windy clouds, happy yawns
Quiet town, down the hill
Misty paths, birds sing
With the forest’s inhabitantsTall palm trees stand guard
From their branches, birds tweet
Squirrels look down in fright or excitement
Dropping oily snacks on trespassers
Forest pathways are hijacked by monkeys
Protesting when a group of boys trod byHappily, mornings start with simplicity
For Ovim; void of stressful traffic,
Human or machine, blesses the humble
Now weekends supply fresh palm beer,
And restates vows of friendship, of family
And of those who love their homeland***Good morning everyone. Ovim, Isuikwuato is my hometown. I have been here for two days and I really admire the scenario. It’s a quiet and inspiring place, a special retreat for me when working on a major writing project.

Africa Poetry

Shameless Love by Okoroji Chidiebere Alexander

They say I love you,

Yeah I do, I’m shameless about it,
I’m weak to confront you,
Your very appetites,
As I find no alternative.
I’m shamelessly in love,
The disease is not new,
Probably there’s a dew,
We only had but a few,
I’m the Judas in the twelve.
Some probably won’t get it,
I truly never loved anyone better,
You ignites life and make love fun,
I could have taking a deep run,
But I went low and took a turn.
I’m shamelessly in love with you,
You always feel it through my anger,
That you feel you’re in danger,
Sometimes you even ponder,
What a mess you’ve enter,
But when you open my heart,
You’re right there in the center.
My love bears no mark,
You truly never left Mark,
My love is built like the Ark,
It came solely without a track,
It took out the dirt’s in the dark,
And make me safe in my own park,
Well, Without shame, I took it back.
I love you shamelessly,
You made it sound tirelessly,
I made it look endlessly,
That made the English a problem,
That I act so foolishly
But as clueless as it seems,
Your love breaks my bones.
Africa culture/tradition Igbo culture

African Proverbs 8

What do you make of this Ovambo saying?

A Parasite can not live alone.

Africa culture/tradition

Weirdest Snacks in Africa

Here are some of the weirdest snacks you can find in Africa.

Palm Grubs: Yuck, I know right? Some of the grubs can grow big enough to fit in one mouthful. The grubs are found in dead and decaying palm and raffia trees. Some people eat the grubs alive but to be on a safer side I prefer salted and fried grubs. It’s oily and crunchy. So yummy! 😋

Winged Termites: Come on guys, don’t say Eew! This one is really really tasty. It’s probably the favorite living snack in Africa. When it is garnished with pepper, onion and other spices it can be addictive. The insects are flying termites seeking new places to start a colony. When the nuptial flight commence, most won’t have the chance to mate. In the trail they fall prey to many animals, ranging from birds to lizards, ants to frogs and man! 🤨

Millipedes: Okay guys. I know no one really wants anything with these creepy guys as their distant cousins are notoriously venomnous. I have never tasted any and I don’t think I want to. I learned that some species of Millipedes are boiled with yams which gives a unique taste and color to the food. No thank you, I will pass. 🙄

Crickets and Grasshoppers: Never have I tasted any of these but I do play with them. These insects live in the bush and can elude their hunter easily. So most times they are caught in the night. To prepare, it is salted and fried just like the grubs.

There are many weird and living snacks which will come later. So when you are in Africa, try to check out our weird snacks. I bet you will be glad you did! Have a good night/day. 😴

Africa culture/tradition Igbo culture

Anunebe: The Masquerade as reported by Okoroji Chidiebere Alexander

The moment is almost here as people in the village are all dressed to watch the great Anunebe perform in the village square, one occasion that is performed once in a year, and this makes the event one of the greatest anticipated events in Ibeme, Isiala-Mbano, a small village in Imo State, Eastern part of Nigeria. The Villagers are eager, anxious and nervous to welcome the Great Anunebe to the village square where all the displays, dramas and performances will be carried out. Anunebe is a godlike Masquerade. He is very tall— spiritually taller than the Iroko tree. With his deified attire, with a stag of bull around his head, in a guise to give way for the ways of the gods, and with a cloak which conceals; a disguise or pretext of his person and with a beautiful artifice with all sorts of symbol— that of a Serpents, a red Python; a very strange one, and skulls of human heads; heads of Great Warriors of the land “The Ikembas” (those who died in the battle field), not “The Efulefus” (those that ran away). And with all manners of charms and musical instruments, that makes sonorous sounds when he jump or shakes his body. He is invisible, as one can’t identify the person behind the Masquerade. It was an arcane knowledge known to few. Although, rumor holds it that; those behind the Masquerade are one of the Great Idibias’ (Herbalist/ Chief Priest), one that is very close to the oracle and the gods of the land. Prophecy holds it that, anyone behind the Masquerade is a spirit that bring the people closer to the gods and their ways—as the person won’t be able to control himself— the gods will be in possession of the person. That fateful day, on Afor Market day, the Village Elders are all prepared wearing their “Chieftaincy and titled red and black caps and an Aguiye Attire”, with the faces of Tiger and Lion displayed on it. While the Women, especially the Ezinnes, are also prepared in their colourfully blazing uniform, “the blouse and Joge”. The youth: the boys and the girls are also prepared as they dressed in their respective native attire; while the boys mimics the men, the girls do same with the women. Here comes the drummers; the Ogene boys, the Ocha boys and the Ofikpo boys. We also have the Wondrous Dancers, the Omalicha girls, Odum girls and Ocherigo girls. As they beat the drums proficiently while the Dancers dances to Entertain everyone, the Young, and the Elderly especially the women among them; were filled with joy and happiness as they remembered their youthful days, how awesome their dancing styles, the shaking of the waists was. The men too, they remembered how they arouse their audience by climbing the trees while chanting, the flexing of muscles to the amusement of the beautiful girls who admires them. Everyone stood still as they welcome the Great Anunebe, who only comes in when the sun is down. The chants, the grunts, the chunters, while the man behind the flute melt the chord with his melody. Everyone is energized and invigorated; the welcoming displays is appreciated by the Elders, as the Oyesiala (The head of land) pave way for the Great Anunebe to enter the scene as he uses Dry Gin to pray and blessed the land where he will be performing. Although, the rituals behind the scene has been completed. The demands actualized! Twelve heads of Guinea fowl, four heads of white native Goats, A Python’s tongue, two eyes of a crocodile, the urine of seven virgins and a Lion’s blood. Has he enters, everyone becomes scared and frightened, ” What a mighty creature of a Masquerade”. He bends out from the hut shrine where he was, with his chanter who sings all manners of praise to him while he walks majestically to the field that’d been decorated with all sorts of creatures, dead tortoise, vultures, bats…., before he enters the field, he uses his back and walks slowly while taking a bow to recognise the goddess of the earth “Ani” when he gets there; he raises his head up, “Wow” as it marvels the crowd. He’s bodily and bossily built. “A Giant of a Masquerade” Very huge and Tall! A dwarf have to be careful not to loss his head. One can’t see the eyes but can hear his strange voices with his crafted, red painted Tiger head, a very big one. He chanted and invoked the presence of the gods as he speaks in strange language only those gifted by the gods can be able to comprehend. He recognises everyone as he greets them. Now the moment everyone has been waiting for, the magical dance. He change his steps severally, raises is head, shakes his body and gave the audience a spectacular display of a dance as all became speechless and astonished, “More than what one bargain for”. That golden moment that comes once in a blue moon. It seems the gods as posses those beating the drum, as they were doing it diligently. The style and manner is totally different. The Great Anunebe danced, and danced and danced in a godlike to the amusement of those that came. Some were even crying, while others were dancing along. That moment changed Chike’s and Obi’s life, has they appreciated their culture and heritage more!

Okoroji Chidiebere Alexander is a Business Education and Business Administration graduate of UNN and OOU. He authored: The Perfect me, My Village is now a Town, The Grid, The Engrieved and Aberration.

Nature Pastoral Poetry

Shepherd’s poem

From bed of wool, sound of settling sheep bemused him
Far up the night sky, stars want and rain was on her way
These three things blessed the Shepherd’s thoughts and rest

Love and Christianity

Jehovah: My Beautiful Dream

I remember days when I was lost and hopeless
Was all alone, I was helpless
I didn’t care about it so much
For all I had was a dream
And it was beautiful…
I realised You were standing there
Even when I thought no one was around
Now I understand You came as a Dream,
This Dream has made my life so beautiful!

Africa Poetry

Initiated Relationship by Okoroji Chidiebere Alexander

I was drunk last night,
Thinking about your very words,
How this our love is an initiation,
And not a relationship,
What I call, inspired spirituality.
You accosted the actions,
While prolonging your decisions,
You never truly loved me,
Will it be best I say;
You rather used me,
I have heard men are scum,
And it compliments women are scam,
The diagnosis is scanned.
You initiated this relationship,
So as to please me,
Please the very excuse of love,
Or essences of mine,
I have to carry the cross,
From eight to nine mile,
But right there, you never mind,
Your always kind,
A distance love I rather find,
Blew away by the wind.
You an artist,
And you are very good at it,
A masterpiece Con-artist
You created me as an imagination,
And exploit me from your very creation,
You played me on both ends,
As lord, you word me out of life,
And piece my heart with your hate,
Which resonate the true you;
The thief with the devil’s knife,
Right there, you initiated me.
I was searching for what’s truly mine,
A motherly kind of love,
I was longing never minding the consequences,
Not until I met you,
Instead of love,
You deepen my inspiration,
My perception,
And right there,
You abuse my sexuality,
My spirituality
And my personality.
Africa Igbo culture Uncategorized

Muse: Homecoming

Nada o! O nada o! Nada o! I’m back o!
Kuje kusanar, go and tell them!
Bring my jug, bring me kola, bring a mat,
For justice will be done to Mama’s soup pot
I must lay under the mango tree tonight
To watch the stars glitter and hear the crickets sing
Ah… I’m glad! I’m happy! Ina murna!
Go and inform them, I’m back!
Tell me who slept on my bamboo bed in my absence?
Who won the Okpa village wrestling competition?

Did the hunters bring any quarry
Or some palm wine tapper’s brew?
I long to dip in the cold currents of Kpere
And swim with the shy fingerlings…
I missed the Waterfalls,
And her sound when her water fall!

I missed the Hawk’s call from the hills
When the sun shine in the hot noon
I missed you crazy masquerades
And faces that blessed my childhood

Where you deh Oyine Mama?
Where you deh Oyine Papa?
I’m happy to see you again!
When you look at me, Mama nawa
When you smile at me… Ina murna!
Come and hear my story
Come and dine with me
Celebrate with my joyful self
It’s good to be back home!

Nada o: I’m back in Hausa language of Nigeria.
Kuje kusanar: Go and inform them
Mama nawa: my mama
Ina murna: I’m happy
Where you deh Oyine Papa/Mama: where are you my father/mother

Africa Nature Pastoral Poetry

Haiku: Tides

Sunshine, blue skies and approaching tide
Brown crabs crawl away, walking sideways
Amused egrets follow, escorting their trail


Haiku of the Morning

See these sparkle of gold
Brew bubbles across the clouds,
While they sail away to other lands


African Proverbs 7

The bush in which one hides has eyes

– Gusii Proverb.

Explanation: There’s actually no hiding place for anyone.

Africa Uncategorized

Don’t Cry

Now listen dear child, listen attentively
To the forested hills, for they are your ancient brothers
To the birds, they carry gossip and might have answers
Watch the sunrise and sunset from tree branches
Search the valleys too, let your eyes behold our land
Feel the flowers with your finger tips
Smell the caking dust after the rain,
Feed your eyes with all that is left of here
And when- if you dream of other peoples’ land,
Remember you have a beautiful homeland!

Your father went to fight in the war
Last I saw him march, without a bye
The glory became pain,
You are what is left of him and I’m worried for you
Remember not to treat your woman and land so,
For there are other ways to be brave than guns


For my grandfather, Late Mazi Chinyere Abraham Duroha
World War 2 Veteran.

(God rest his soul)

Africa Nature Poetry

Rainfall, Drummer of the Year!

Nothing compares to the feeling you bring,
With queer beats, you spice up Summer,
Singing as in songfests with the Thunder!


Three Poems: The Waterfalls, Peace and Your Love

The Waterfalls:
I tell the trees of your sounds and they are jealous
When you fall, birds and the wild stop to listen,
To hear Nature sing while she wash her garment in your mist

Bird songs, butterflies, sun rays and peace,
All are fruits from the green forest,
Nature’s providence to mankind

Your Love:
Your Love has taken over me
Now I come to You with nothing,
For with You I become everything!

Africa Poetry Uncategorized

Muse: Swift Stream

The blue stream flow swift
Three patient toads sit aghast
Waiting for the current to pass


The Baobab

This is for you humble castle, beautiful succour and living citadel,
You whose roots are soft seats; you who shelter ants, mushrooms and birds,
Your leaves are shield from rain, you are a friend to all that may come


As we read through, let’s remember to play our role in protecting Earth’s vegetation and trees.


Haiku: Smiles

Smiles are colorful dresses,
Bright are the clouds that sail by,
Brighter are lips that wear loving smiles


Image by Botlhale Nyandeni

Africa culture/tradition Uncategorized

African Proverbs 6

Every Dog is a Lion in his own gate.

-Ghanaian Proverb

Explanation: This metaphorical statement translates to every man is King in his own house.


Haiku: Sunset

Grey shades fall on the land, fast travels the sun through the clouds
Songs of slumber, dog barks, the airy evening’s last memories,
Time to wake all night creatures, crawling or walking


African Proverbs 5

He who shows himself at every place will someday look for a place to hide.

Explanation: Anyone who is always available to everyone will find it hard to keep a private life.

Africa culture/tradition Igbo culture

Kedike by Chidimma

This is a nice song with (Igbo) African beats.

Learn Igbo language and culture here.


Haiku: Smile Beautiful Flower

Smile beautiful flower
Let your tissues and petals
Bring warmth to all that see

Africa Uncategorized

African Proverbs 4

Here’s an Igbo proverb made popular by Chinua Achebe: When Elephants fight the grass suffers.

There’s a Swahili version of it: When two Elephants fight the grass gets hurt.

Explanation: For instance, when a child’s parents fight or separate, the child suffers most. Also when there’s war or strife in a country the poor masses suffer the most.

Africa folklore Love and Christianity Poetry

My Muse

I love your dimples, joyful grace on your smiles
It stole my stare each time I looked at your face,

Night falls herald day’s end and our retirement
But for the Sun’s slumber we gladly wait
Evening is timid, passing through the horizon,
The setting sun took her gold from morning

There’s a fire made for you and me,
A mat, some biscuits and honey,
There’s my rhymes waiting for your muse
And songs to wish away the day’s stress-

Jack Sparrow, Caribbean pirates,
Sinbad’s Seven seas, queer beasts!
Or do you prefer my tale of the Giraffe,
And how she ate the Moon half?
How lucky we are to lay by the fireside
Under the glare and applause of Stars and fireflies
With sweet fragrance of mother Nature-
Teach me how to love you, fine Creature

Now I am in love with your pretty self


African Proverbs 3

Consider this proverb for the day: What has horns must not be hid in a sack.

– Zulu (South African) Proverb

Explanation: Something’s are not meant to said or done in the public. This is an African version of the English saying “Don’t wash dirty linen outside”.