lifestyle Love and Christianity Nature Pastoral Poetry

Shepherd’s Tales: King David

The day ends with a big stress for David
But to him, this was not any challenge
As he walked thru the hamlet and pass by an inn,
‘Hello David! Come have a drink with men,
Come and have some fun , will you?’
A soldier called as David passed
‘Oh no sire, I will be late for dinner,
My brothers will be visiting tonight
I must be home before night fall…’
The soldiers grunted a good bye,
‘Alright, anyone seen this huge Philistine?
They say he has got two heads…!’
The soldiers discussed amongst themselves
And Davids ears had picked a word… two heads!
What manner of man will this Philistine be?
David shrugged, he wasn’t meant to fear
David called out to his sheep, whistling softly
As they gather, running towards home together
Bleating joyfully over a full stomach of rye
On the door of the caravan…
David could hear his brother’s voices
Happy memories flood fast back to him
And he quickly locked the barn door,
Patting his favourite sheep on the head
‘Halo there! Look at you, all grown!
Aww, is that a moustache, is that?’ Elihu said
‘Come here, little brother… Come have a sit’
The taciturn Abinadai said happily
David bowed before his brothers
And walked in, leaning his shepherd stick
Upon the wall by the window side
‘Tell me about your sheep and everything’
Elihu said, amused at David’s appearance
‘Oh the sheep! They are awesome!
They are cute and absolutely pretty
I like most the feel of their grey tongues
When they lick off the grass from my palms
I have killed a hungry bear and scared off a lion
When I take the sheep grazing, the sun shine
Look brothers, I learnt the harp while on the fields
The smell of grass in the early mornings, ah!
That I can not equally describe,’ David quipped
The look of disgust fills his brothers faces
As they looked at each other over the table
‘Well I must commend your efforts David,
But we missed your absolute nonsense
Hope you become a man soon enough
And here is a toast to our little brother!’
Elihu raised his mug and everyone followed,
To drink to David’s health and pastoral life

Laying on the bed, David clutched his pillow
Looking thru the window towards the barn
Up the dark skies, full moon shone
He thought of his sleeping humble sheep
He dozed off, smiling at his shepherd privilege
Dreaming that one day he will care for his people, Israel
The same way God made him tend to his fathers sheep


Biafran Babies

I heard your songs soar through the thick forests, through the fields

But the wind hid the song, your voice and your face from the world

You were told to keep quiet, but if the hunger won’t let you from crying out

Daada will have to drop you, so that the soldiers won’t find our hideout

I hail thee children who saw the famine ravage our land

Those who stood watching their teachers and fathers march

To fields of no return, to early graves and destroyed hopes

We heard granny calling out to Daada, crying as she learnt he has gone

Gone to fight for his land, with bare hands and dummies for Biafra had no gun! 

We cry when evening fall and the sounds of machine guns halt

The canons speak, we hear them destroy our home and farmland 

Tomorrow Mama will visit the market, yes she will try to find food

Our belly hurt, they hurt so much that we ate raw leaves and worms, 

Mama told me to tell you all that if she wasn’t seen before nightfall

That we all should stay in the bush and must not return to our hamlet

I will not dream of walking back, our foot ache, the forest is our refuge

Now I am confused; there is still a lot of death up the hills

There is pain and frustration and hunger and stagnation

The rivers always bring the taste of blood to our drinks

Now I hear them bombs whistle: ‘Tau! Tai!! Tau!!! Leave here, Die there’! 

‘Dear Heaven! I call on You! Hear me, hear my babies! 

Will it end today? Will Daada ever come home to us?’

‘Why are they killing us? Why is there so much hate in Africa?’

‘Did we do anything wrong? Why must soldiers kill everyone?’

I must sob silently, I must not let the younger ones hear me

But they are all awake, with fright and tears in their little eyes

Searched me, catching  it all, the grief I tried to hide from them

I am sorry little ones, I am sorry indeed, my heart spoke

‘Did Daada start the fighting? Should we take some of our food to him? 

Daada must be very hungry wherever he is!’ Louise said

‘No he won’t want us near him or the soldiers

He will flog us if we ever try to, let’s just sing softly his favorite: 

Anyi no n’obubu agha
I bu agha megide uwa
Ya na Ekwensu
Ya na ajo muo
Anyi no n’obubu agha


*Daada:  Father

*Anyi no n’obubu agha

I bu agha megide uwa

Ya na Ekwensu

Ya na ajo muo

Anyi no n’obubu agha: 

We are fighting a war
Against the world
Against the Devil
And every evil
We are fighting a war 


The same issues that brought about the unfortunate war still play in Nigeria. The christians are being killed in the north and elsewhere. Nigeria, though wealthy sit as one of the poorest countries of the world. Biafra still seek to be independent and needs no war to achieve this. 



Dear diary,
Night falls now…

The city is quiet
Save from toads
Out in the field
And wild crickets
Hiding on the walls

The distinct noises
Of a quarelling couple
Disturb my thoughts
Down on this bed,
I count the days work

There were strange clouds
Up the clouds today
There were tales in my mind
And a quiet time…
Each in different times

Brick walls of school
Playful kids all about
But hey, maths is important
So you must pay attention
Pythagoras, Guassian, Boyle

There’s a pile on my bed
ODM, Igbo bible, NIV, etc
Teachers Math guide, hmm
A feel of mental work

The streets…
And from the window
The bean-ball vendor
Hawk her products
Nothing really changed

The bank…
Fidelity, we keep our words
Okay oo, I heard you
Then: Have a nice day!
They shout after me

Okay, Teevee…
Flipping the channels
BBC, Brexit, Aljazeera, EU
Obama, Buhari, Ali, Trump
France, Syria, Biafra, Venezuela

Pick of cracker biscuits
Vit. C, Iodine, peppery soup
Some heavy carbohydrates
And a taste of garlic

The streets busybodies…
They stare always all times
Like very seriously?
You do see me pass
Thru here always, don’t ya?

And street again…
Went strolling and visiting,
Fascinated by the peace in me
Even though the world
Seem to fall slowly apart…

I wonder
What our world
Is fast becoming,
And why kids die in vain
While nations watch war films

But now I recall all
And hope for a better tomorrow
As I retire for the day!