lifestyle Nature Poetry

City Life by Robin N Bliss

Tall,towering up so high
Glass towers touch the sky
Man made canyons concrete,stone
There the wind funnels mourn n’moan
People hurry push and shove
No time here for thing like love
Neon signs glowing bright
They are such a colourful sight

Buildings forming angles sharp
Here and there,there is a park
Cars and buses grind and roar
So much traffic more and more
Sunlight reflecting off the glass
Clouds form patterns as they pass
And the buskers entertain
But,see the homeless in their pain

See the man in tattered clothes
Shuffling on wards as he goes
See the man in business suit
For he doesn’t give a hoot
For the poor and homeless man
We know he doesn’t give a damn
And so the city life goes on
From the night until the dawn

Africa folklore Nature Pastoral Poetry

The sun may hide

The sun may hide for a while
But faith is our fortitude and citadel

Africa education lifestyle

Update on CoronaVirus in Africa

This is heart wrenching, what began as a joke is gradually escalating. Nobody is laughing anymore. When I got the updates I knew that we still have a long way before calm.

Closing state borders is not enough. African countries are finding it extremely difficult to handle the scourge with their poor economic status. Now the real show is unfolding we need to take things more serious.

There are people going about their business every day. Kudos to the police for arresting those who disobey the order. But we must tread lightly, I also saw on social media, a boy who died from gunshot wounds in Delta state. There’s no need for excessive force. People are trying to survive. It’s hardtimes and we must apply human compassion before punishment. It might be hunger that drove such person(s) out at the first place. We were hungry before the advent of Covid-19, so let the security think before leaping.

This morning I saw several nomadic cobblers walk across my street. I’m sad that these set of people are not restrained from movement. Why are they wandering about to mend people’s footwears when we, the clients ain’t moving anywhere? If the government is asking everyone to sit at home this must apply to everybody, I mean everybody safe from food vendors. Anyone can spread this virus!

Stay safe everyone. My prayers to Africa, Europe, America and rest of the world. Everything will make sense soon, have faith.

Africa culture/tradition education lifestyle Nature Pastoral

Self Reflection 24: Be Strong, Be Yourself

“To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment”_Ralph Waldo Emerson

Africa culture/tradition education folklore Igbo culture lifestyle Nature Pastoral

Nostalgia: Traveling memories

I remember my first attempt at hunting. I was a little boy then and just arrived my hometown for holidays. It was fun and I was glad I went home. As a town boy I had little experience in hunting and general country life. Traveling home was a great way to get in touch with my culture and loved ones. My granny lived in the countryside. I was always excited to see her, she was the reason I went home then. She was kind, generous and thoughtful of others. She always spared me some fish from her food basket. I was her boy and always sit looking at her pretty face each time she made dinner. The memories of her soup still make me salivate. How I miss those days. I wish I could pen down the exact feelings but it can’t be expressed in that manner. It can only be felt. True happiness grow from simple and funny things.

School holidays was an opportunity for traveling. I enjoyed every bit of it. The excitement to pack, to watch the clouds ride past, to eat my hometown’s egusi biscuits, to play with many kids and dream of killing a lion in the forest was enough to drive me home. I always fantasized, I always imagined. I dreamed too. This must be the origin of my love for traveling. Most times we traveled through rail and other times by road. The roads then were much better and I love the feel of fresh wind against my face. I really loved traveling with my aunt to stay with granny (God rest their beautiful souls).

I remember hunting with my playmates. We could hunt, swim, fish, dance, play games, farm and climb trees. We even played in the rain. We hunted anything available, lizards, rats, flies, bugs, grasshoppers and ants. I as a person, had a soft spot for living things. I could collect and study them. As a kid I couldn’t keep my captive pets alive because they won’t eat the food I offered them. Well, I cried each time I lost an insect. My parents thought I would become a medical doctor, but I wasn’t destined for that. My curiosity was something else. I wasn’t good in fixing inanimate objects (fans and TeeVee sets) like my elder brothers but I was more interested in life itself.

There were stories told by my aunt and granny. I also learned of Biafra from old veterans. Most of my friends were the elderly. While I loved hanging out with them I learned a lot from their stories. I imagined life in the time of no civilization. My aunt was my favourite story teller. She acquainted me with tricks of Nnabe, the cunny Tortoise. She even told me I was the reincarnation of her father and wished I met him and I wish I did too. He was a great man indeed. He farmed great expanses of land and had big yam barns, diji, he was also a great hunter, dinta, he was stubborn and courageous. I learned he fought in Hitler’s War in Libya and modern day Israel. My mom still retells her favourite story of how he beat up a racist who always intimidated black soldiers. It’s a good laugh. Maybe I will tell it some day.

I remember with joy, how fast things go by, how I miss those good nomad days and how life has changed. But beautiful memories still flood my mind. I’m grateful to have them.