Tag: Nigeria

They call her the Peoples Elephant
Yet it sits sprawled like a mad man
Eating the debris of waste for nutrients
Driving the cattle mad so they scatter
Breaking the peoples will and mind
Into a million strange atoms
So that the Elephant is left in Ant pieces

The Sewages are dirty, messed up
The people carefree and callous
They care nothing for environmental safety
They care nothing for government properties
Like the wind they chose to fly away
Living in a personal country called Utopia
Dictating what and what not
And like a sea of worms consuming filth
The city had thrived…

The bulk of people who stay here
Live a two-faced life,
One of wealth, affluence and prosperity
Another of delusion and controversy
The mockery of the nation,
A shame to even the dwellers
A power tussle over the life of peoples
Once a pride, now a Vultures prey

Talents waste away, resources also
The principles we live for slowly simmer away
The industries close down everywhere
The roads are broken down badly
The power supply is highly epileptic
The schools lose that strict adherence of excellence
All we have now is a huge sick Elephant
Waiting to turn to a carcass
Or is there hope, now we still live?

Want a blog like this one? Then click this link.

Commentary.
I am bitter about the continued darkness in this city of Abia State. Typical of African style leadership of abandonment, the leaders of the state has done very little to harness the potentials of this great state to its heights. Rather all they are interested is personal issues. A poem of bitterness, I must say.

Arise and shine
Arise and shine

This morning brings to us
Fresh dry airs, severely cold
With dew strong like smoke
Rushing thru the glass window
In a fresh bust of race,
To the green fields of meadow
Strange paintings the dew draw
Throwing up busts of free air
One of sweet vitality and life

Let the golden sun shine today
And light the paths of our ways

Breath in slowly…
Breath in Heavenly life
And let love rule always

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.

Africa is a budding cocoon
A shy, fragile and cute butterfly
With shaky wings meant to fly
Living, in a desperate world

Africa is the gigantic tree
That grows by the side of the river
Shielding the lengths of the forests
And feeding the lifes around it

Africa is a mountain highly peaked
With white snows melting gracefully
And herds of Wildebeest grazing
Quietly down the grassy green plains

Africa is a mild song
That plays when the sunshine
At the beach down, down the road
With brown and white sand mixed

Africa is a dream
Waiting to happen
Hope of the generation
A scenic beauty of land and nature

Africa is my home
The hills of serene Ovim*
And the wild catfishes
That move about kingly and fearless

Africa is love
Community and family
Desires and joyful times
And the moonlight tales of the town

The Victoria Waterfalls is Africa
…The Veldt, the Savannah
…The Lake Chad and the River Niger
…The Lions and the Cheetah
…The Crocodiles and the Hippo
…The Elephants and the Rhino
…The Baobab and the Iroko
…The Zulu tribe and Igbo
…The Guinea and the Sahara
…The Oil Palm and the Shea
…The Orange and Nile River
…The Ashante and the Boer
…The Yankari reserve and the Serengeti
…The bushmens’ home and the Kalahari
…The amazing wine called mqobothi
…The Zebra and the Ostrich

Africa plays my fancy
And in such sweetness
I love my motherland

Commentary:
Ovim is in Nigeria and the poet hails from there.

Come this thunder
When the nights glitter with explosions
The resemblance of fire-cracker carnivals
And as the rattling for supremacy
Is heard from heartless machine guns
Spewing the seeds of destruction
Upon unfortunate children and men
‘Kwaa-pu kwaa-pu kwaa-pu, unu dum!’
‘Leave here,’ the emissaries of death say
Flying limbs, headless bodies and chaos
Destruction to humanity and justice
But the world stood watching
As children turn pale, clutching
Hungrily to their protuding intestines
No salt, no salt, no salt!
Meanwhile the jets throw their bombs
Murdering defenceless people and clans
The infantry is filled with anger
Bloodthirst, frustration and revenge
And the world watched it all
It was an action packed movie

But let the fowl allow the worm be
No matter how they chose to live
For freedom is deserving to all people
Who desire it wholeheartedly

Note:
Line 8: Kwaa-pu kwaa-pu kwaa-pu, unu dum! An Onomatopoiea for the sound of heavy artillery and in Igbo meaning ‘Leave here, leave there, leave here, all of you!’

For the Biafran babies and Christopher Okigbo

Learn Igbo language here.

See the roofs on houses, dust cladded
And the palm trees stuck to the ground
Like a majestic knight standing guard
The streets wind up the road

Ogbor sits on a hill up the vale
The ancient city and fortress
Once on the river flowing fast
Washing strange mens nakedness

The harmattan brings dusts upon all
The skies are blue most times
Highways are full with cars that whine
But upon the gross confusion men dine

Women trade in the markets
Some men drink heavy stout
Always, people traverse about
But in the evening, the lights go out

Ariaria sits where the city allowed it
The noisy and busy Ngwa town
Wakes with the rising sun
And today a tale must be written

Commentary:
I was raised in this Eastern Nigeria city. The owners of the land are the Ngwa, a sub unit of the Igbo tribe. Also known as the Enyimba city, and harbors the Enyimba Intl FC of Nigeria. Aba is predominantly a commercial center and many markets and industries are situated there.

Tonight, reminds me of thee motherland
Thee land of great forests and men!
Of streams and vast farmlands!
The home of the Cashew and the Palm
The scenery of Mother Natures beauty
A painted work, done only by Nature herself
Great hills and vales surround thee
Oh how love flows when you are remembered
All day, the people are full of smiles
The cold nights are made warm with your memories
A land of the Pheasant and the Hyena
In the hot sun, you shine forth
And the little sun insects scamper about
Let me behold thy beautiful presence
More and more, for thee land
Is my tale and inspiration

It is a very cold morning
As dew descend upon this land
From those ancient hills
Standing like medieval knights
Protecting, shielding and guiding the hamlet
Quiet, queer and strange
But full of amazing life

When you feel the cold
Touched by the tip of a grass leave
On your way to the stream
Or on your way to the farm
Tucked away somewhere
Through windy pathways
Hidden in the green forest
The trick of Nature comes to you
The streams are very cold
Icing cold, it takes a huge heart
To plunge a fist in the waters

The shivering cold feasts on the flesh
Turning the skin to white colorings
Driving dry airs through the nose
And up the hills, one could hear sounds;
The cutting of palm fronds
The call of the wild
The wind brings sweet scents
Of wild sunflowers and marigold
And the cooking of my people
Though the cold be so a tyrant
It revives memories never to be lost
To a wild and country-loving boy

Umukwu is a hamlet located in Ovim, Isuikwuato in Nigeria. My mother is from here and I have spent some time living here. It is a very quiet place, save from the birds twittering and the buzzing of insects in the mornings. The hamlets is almost cut off by breath taking hills surrounding it, cold streams with big catfishes and crabs which are not to be killed; very fanciful tradition you might say. The people are homely, welcoming and very friendly; a typical feature of the Igbo ethnic group.

The days are made beautiful with your glorious appearance
But when the sun rises up the clouds, the warmth is taken
And for men, faces become a caricature of disgust upon the mirror

In the morning even before the Suns rising
The firmament and the pathways is filled with mists
The track to the stream and forest is covered
The road is treacherous, for snakes sleep in your wake
The dews settle upon the leaves of trees, weighing down the branches
And all about the vegetation, smell of burning grass and wet clay stay
The greens turn red with dust
The greens frown and grow brown
When the hawks circle the skies
Searching for stray rats and chicken

The sun rises afterwards
Hot and boiling
Drying, dehydrating all
Taking the wetness off the trees
The thirst for water becomes paramount
The streams and rivulets
Quench the thirst of body and soul
Refreshing, fruits become a taste

Harmattan brings both joy and love
The evening breeze brings cool airs
A warm distraction from the heat of the day
The dry muds crack as men thread upon them
The leaves crack and fall in circles
Stripping naked proud trees and shrubs
The streams become more shallow
Children play in them, throwing water up
At one another in pure ecstacy

When the nights happen upon men
The mists return to shield the way
The moon shine lightly,
Upon the village and hamlet
The shadows of trees are hidden
In the thick fog which grows about
And when men gather in the inns
To paint the works of the day
With words come from cracked lips
And voices high pitched like the Nightingales
The airy evening bring good tidings upon them

The Stream, Kpere

Then I heard your drift, Flowing through the forest Washing men’s nakedness… When there was love When on the stream side I sit Trying to peer thru the tall shrubs I saw the white clouds Clear as the sweet spring water Leaping in joyful haste, In boundless ecstasy Washing the little rocks Pulling pebbles along… Continue reading The Stream, Kpere

Rate this:

Ovim, my homeland

To Thee My homeland My mothers birthplace The land of the brave Ovim- land of strength What baffles me most, Through this bewildered mind The uncertainty of what Must be thought and said Is the serenity about thee I speak of you with pride With love, with joy Thee Ovim, my Father land A beauty… Continue reading Ovim, my homeland

Rate this:

Nigeria

In the morning, the sun rises Above the horizons and cliffs And on the smiling faces on the farms The hope rises with the sun As the children roll out their bicycles To the tanned fields of the hamlet Followed by their pets, puppies and kittens A proud cloud draws a huge smile And on… Continue reading Nigeria

Rate this: