Tag: Africa

How I missed you beautiful city
The city that made me a man!
Oh, how lovely it is to walk your streets
Like Robin back from the gaols of France
But then the city wear a new look
Like a silver bracelet, shiny and comely
Upon the old things the new thrive
New Owerri and her cultured trees
And the people with their fine lives

The trees which I left as infants
Are now matured, bearing fruits
The roads are not so perfect,
The streets now bear gates
And men still scooped silt
From the waters that flowed east
There has been a tremendous growth
One unexplainable to me but cute
Strange architectural works of art
Here and there, they calmly litter,
The palms blossom by the city center
Overlooking the fast flowing river
See the lonely marble soldier
A sculpture depicting power
I missed the ever hot soup dinner
And the Hausa man who sold to me suya*
Now I am left to observe and wonder
For God has made here a blessed area

Commentary.
I lived in Owerri, capital of Imo State for a year when I did my Industrial Training with Diamondbank Nigeria PLC. Living without my family members taught me a lot about life, working professionally, chosing friends and managing my finances, time and self I came to realize I just became a man. Last week I was in Owerri, I could notice some changes which was actually sweet. I still love this city much…

Hausa: a tribe of Northern Nigeria.
Suya: delicious slices and pieces of meat, usually cow… grilled in the open air on sticks and meshed with onions, cabbages and grounded pepper.

Now the morning has come finally
After the stress of yesterdays rain
This hilly land wakes warily
Our pots are full of Heavens blessings

Sweet musings and fine sights are all about me
The bees, the green hills, the swans that fly away
The vast fields of flowers which crops the Lilies
And the blue skies where the pretty birds stray

There is mixed brown and ash dusts of the Earth
Where happy green plants and trees thrives joyfully
And the look of mother Nature which makes my heart melt,
I’m filled with abundant joy which Gods creatures give me

The undulating hills of my homeland
The clean, flowing streams of Ovim
The caves, the Palm and Cassava land
Always to me it comes to overwhelm

The rocks that stay in the bamboo forest
Overlooking a peaceful flowing stream
Once in a while a fruit plunges into the current
And little fishes scatter in queer confusion

The red mud all about makes all boring
The birds twitter and trade up the palm tree
The dews are thick in the early morning
The happy children swim on the small stream

There is silver fish in the ponds
And very brave children who hunt them
There is the grasscutter and edible toads
And green weeds on the little streams

When the hunters come home, all is alive
The hamlet comes to hear their strange tales
The dogs, the kids, the other men and their wives
Everyone has an ear for the stories they have to tell

The palmwine is healthy and very sweet
The trees on the farms swerve joyfully,
When the tapper comes cycling to the market
The flies follow his trail, as his wine drip slowly

The people are very awesome
Hardworkers, doing every little job
Women are pretty, men are handsome
They till the land and graze the sheep

Now the memories of my humble land
The fears, the faith; the stress, the strengths
A fine land dreamingly made from a wand
Such that it comes alive in my minds eyes

Commentary.
Ovim is my homeland. Located in Abia state of Nigeria, it is a quiet place but full of life. The natives are known for their exploits in both business Entreprise, academia, agriculture and military. Ovim harbors forests, hills, streams and ponds, vast farmlands of cassava and yams (staple food common in the area). It is a fine place. The wildlife here are mostly reptiles (boas, pythons, lizards, monitors, other snakes), wild pigs, rodents, monkeys and birds. But some wild animals like the Alligators, the Hyena and Civets have been reportedly sighted.

” …For where is God our maker, who giveth songs in the night, Who teaches us more than the beasts of the earth and makes us wiser than the birds of heaven?”
-Job 35.10, 11

Now the lands is dry
We seek drinking water
Strife is the order of the day
Pain, prejudice, poverty
Little children and divorce effects
Religious misunderstandings
Jerusalem, Syria and Africa
Wildfires and ethnic tensions
Ebola and HIV, neighborhood crimes
This is not the earth I write of…

Even when hopes fade like the sun down
And the paths are full of great thorns
We look unto Thee Jehovah Shammah
The One who knows the end from the start

Commentary:
This is not a poem, please don’t count it as such. This is my reflection, a prayer I render to God Almighty. The world has lost her mind. News of death, pain, disasters, diseases, wars, ethnic tensions, poverty, drought, earthquakes and more. I am scared of watching the news. I can’t imagine what the world is heading to… Please pray with me.

I was born and bred in a big city
But nought interests me
More than a quiet life
Which the serene hamlets give

I was the king of the jungle
With maidservants and menservants
And a great sand house
Filled with sand-made yams
Commanding the mango fruit
To fall for my noon delight
And the skies turn dark blue
So that it would rain heavily

The moonlit nights are firecrackers
I sent them into the sky on a mission
To excite me with their noise and bangs
The streams flow as I dip my foot to stop her
She mocks my sovereignty, laughing heartily
The green forest full of trees are silent
I thought I did tell them to keep quiet!
I have eaten the Murringas’ seedlings
I have chopped up the Pumpkin skin
I even has slain snakes
Which infiltrated my farmland
I have climbed the Guava
And the mango and Cashew
I slayed a chipmunk
Which ate the fabrics in the house
Oh, I was a warrior!
Yes I was
I Swam the shallow rivers
And caught a big crab

Now here again I happen,
I happen upon these cities again
But the only true place I ever loved
Was this life which I desire when I am
A thousand miles away from township
And her strange faces of hustle bustle

Commentary;
The poet vividly paints a picture of his past times and experiences in the village and rural areas. The piece suggests just one thing: he truly adores a quiet and pastoral countryside lifestyle.

In the depths of the Savannah
Where Nature prowls
Strays a solitary beast-
The King of the jungle

Deep growls rent the night
From one end of the world
To another it spreads
Striking horror to hearts
And to those who dare
To wander the unsafe night

The crickets quiz
But they are safe
Yet the night is unsafe
The struggle in the bush
Paw marks, hooves
And the blood stains
Happily smearing the grasses
And the brown earth
Tells it all
In the mild morning…

Hail the sun rises from the East
From the back of the houses and hills
Up the skies, just above the green forests
On the faces of the glittering waters
And the rugged patches of the dusty earth

The sun rises upon all little hamlets
And on all busy streets of the towns,
On the faces glad to see another day
And on the farms which it paints gold
The land marvels at her power and strength
The trees besides the rushing river,
Swoosh happily to the airy romance
That has come with the sweet smell
Of a beautiful and brand new day

The sun rises with its warmth
The rooftops receive her’ heat
Pigeons call from their nests
The shimmer fall on the rivulets
And quiet ponds in the hamet,
A blessed and calm setting it paints
Across the hamlet and the forests
On the striding Lions and Elephants
And even on little lives as the busy ants

Hail the sun rises with all hopes
On the faces working on the rice farms
Upon the Ostriches that walk the Veldt
And the shiny waters of Niger River
And the gold city of Johannesburg
The sun rises, waking us all

Commentary
Good morning readers and poets. If you have been to Africa, then you can truly see what I see each morning I wake. Try a safari, watch the Lions, Cheetahs, Leopards, Rhinos, Hyenas, Antelopes, Wildebeest, Buffaloes, Eagles, Vultures, Civets, Boars, Hippos, Alligators, Elephants, Pythons, Co’diles etc feed and feel the wonders of mother Nature in a land of the sun. Africa is blessed with abundant sunshine.

1.
The mists still settle upon the hamlet
The hills, the vales and the green forests
All is treacherously hidden in it
One must tread very carefully, lest
You step on a stray scorpion or serpent
Or fall into a ditch or a fast flowing rivulet
The morning took the place of the night
And there, goes the beautiful African mist

2.
And when the African warriors chant
Singing the songs which frights the Wilds
I run up, to the hills to take a view
Hoping to catch a glimpse of the company
Up the solemn blue skies, the Hawks circle
Boys beat the bush with huge sticks
And men walk around with pepper stoves*
The women and girls stay behind,
Pounding, grinding, cooking and brewing

3.
As my eyes wake, I see the light
And now it rains again after the night
I stay humbly quiet
Listening to this blessedness
A roof pettering; so mild, so soft
Drums played by unseen hands
Up and down; the tempo went
With much silent innocence
For my young wings are not hurt…
I lay to observe this sweetness

Note:
Pepper Stoves: A collection of dried grass with pepperic condiments stucked into a metallic structure constructed to have small holes that can enable the passage of smoke; meant to be used as a trap for the rodents of the wild. When a rabbit hole is sighted these stoves are shoved into it, and lighted. The smoke is strong and can choke the inmates of the hole, forcing them out…

Aha, my mind seems to laugh at me…
But I cared so little for what it thinks
I say to it, “there are more to life than you see”
And for the world I say, “follow the sun as it sinks”
For a shepherd, I am a stranger and sojourner
…Travelling to a land far, far away
To places I would see people and wonders
To lands where the sun shines in the day
And the eyes that see it, shall know its worth
For the latter glory shall come forth

It is about time I danced with the Masai
And hold their hands to feel their muscles
Taking their foot paths and frighting the lions
And other wild cattle in the wilderness
I will race the ancients hills soon
And my trophy shall be a smile
And a hug from a loved one

It is about time I see the blue skies of other nations
The warm smiles of people who love Gods providence
To dance to the tune of the Scottish pipes
And sit upon a cliff overlooking the wild blue sea
I will write about life, God willing always
And again my desired trophy
Shall be a smile and hug from a loved one

Never shall I forfeit a beautiful dream
Never again shall the worlds deception
Come to me like Potiphars wife and Joseph
But in my desires Lord I seek you only
Groom my heart, groom also my mind
That sometimes stray from its enclaves

Have you seen the African golden Savannah?
Come drive through dried brown grassland
Come bake in the heat of the sun
Come taste the corn beer, cooked by the locals
Come ride the horse through the wildlands
Come draw your name on the tropics beaches
Come and see…
The stray serpent, the Python or the Scorpion
The spotted skins of the Leopard or the Hyena
The foot paths of the giant African Elephant
And the herds of the colorful Giraffes and Zebras

The sun set is always golden
Painting the horizons with lively hue
The clouds are lighted with gold
As numerous birds fly happily home
View the amazing sights of the waters falling from the Victoria
Crystals of liquid jewel, playing joyfully in reckless carelessness
The forests are treacherous, but they beckon
“Come and see, come to me!”
Come run the hills and dance with the Masai
Come drink the waters of the Niger river
Come eat the sweet cassava flour bread
Come feel the hustle of the African metropolis
Come and never be in a hurry to go
The African golden Savannah calls to you

Strings of flax fall from your stress
Hides carved from animal skin
And strange cloth embellish you

You swerve around like a drunk
Scaring children and younger folk
Caring for nothing but for asunder
The masks on you remind of the hyena
Your whip dragging behind you as you walk
As you seek peoples’ doors to knock
The dogs are scared of your appearance
For they cant stop your uninvited attendance
At homes, mothers yell for their kids
But you only care for your needs

Learn the Igbo language here.

Now palm beer is brought before you
And some lobes of finest of kola nut
For appeasing of the spirits which are come
Unto men from the ancient hills and caves
Let the kettle see the pot as a friend
And not as a foe for they two are black
Let the Eagle perch and the Kite as well
None should forbid the other from perching
Now have the fill of your beer
For your next bus stop
The wine might not be as good as this

Somewhere in Africa

Strong winds swept all to asunder
But the Masai march against it
With spears black with greasy hands
And faces painted like Halloweens ghosts
Pushing the tall shrubs down
Frighting lions off the forest paths
With bare hands they dare the buffaloes
And call to the Boar for duels
What manner of men, strange
The queer hue of pride and courage
Meshed in muscles and will
With strength for running the heights
Each man being a useful tool
Courage for the head to stay on its place
Throwing oneself to Fates’ mercy
The hope of a strong future
To be painted in the glory be told
And the unity of being one strong weapon
Driving against the wind up the hills
With their noses straightened to meet the air
They conquer all, man and beast

God our tryst maker
Our lover and He who knows all
Chineke m, ke bi nigwe!
Maker of the Universe
He whom fetches water with a basket
To disgrace the bucket
He who whips us with one hand
And consoles us with the other
He who stills a raging sea
He who made the Kola nut
The King of all foods!
We come to You, our maker
We break the Kola nut
Before You, maker of the Kola
The food that never fills the stomach
But it is the King of all food!
We have the Cassava and the Yam
But the Kola is the King of all food
It is not eaten with Palm oil
It is not pounded on mortar
Nor stewed in a dish of porridge
It is not meshed in meat or fish
It stands alone, all alone
Like the Iroko in the forest!
It is not food for children
But this food is for men!
Our farms shall be fruitful
Our children more fruitful
Our streams shall have fish
And our forests shall have vegetables
The heat of the sun won’t scorch us to death
The pain of pregnant women
Shall become a joy in the morning
The clouds shall water our gardens
We shall eat of our sweat
Make us contented with what we have
You have given us the yam
You have also given us the knife to cut it

Learn the Igbo language here.

Let the moon shine when she must
Let the Sunshine when she must
Let the wind bring us good tidings
And let us see many smiles
On the faces of all in the hamlet
Let the Eagle perch
Let also the Kite perch
Any that forbids the other from perching
Let his wings break!
If one seeks downfall for us
Let such befall those people
Let not our enemies hostile light burn us
We shall have our children as the Hebrew women
Our children shall have their own
And our children’s children
We break the Kola!
Iri di nwata na okenye nma!

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Commentary.
I wrote this poem some time ago. I had found it necessary to revise and edit some lines of the piece, seeing that tradition is something dynamic. I seek to share a bit of my African culture. The Igbo is a South Eastern Nigerian tribe, an enterprising nation situated on the Niger Delta of Nigeria. As a growing kid some
decades ago, I have witnessed Igbo Kola breaking
traditions- a series of cultural rituals performed more like prayers. It’s typically used to welcome visitors, especially at festivities.

Notes.
Line 3: Chineke m, ke bi nigwe: Igbo language for My God who lives in Heaven.
Line 55: iri di nwata na okenye nma! Igbo for food good for both the young and elderly
Study Questions.
1. What are the figures of speech present in the poem?
2. Discuss the imagery.
3. Would you classify this as a traditional poem? Why?

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