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Madmen in my village
There used to be just two madmen in my village when I was a kid. Everyone knew them, and parents used their names to scare children into taking their baths and being good. I still remember their names : Mallam Moro and Yawele. Recently as I thought about their names, it occurred to me that…
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Thank you, David🙏
I had the opportunity of writing a rengay with David and it was fun. It was my first time writing one, and frankly I had never heard of the term. But David explained it to me and the rules governing these kinds of poems. It was initially challenging for me to think of saying much…
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The psychologist
She said she couldn’t see anything in her dreams whenever she slept in a dark room. The lights must be on before she could make sense of anything in her dreams. “You mean when the lights in your room are out, there is neither sunshine or any ray of light in your dreams? “ the…
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Holidays
Whenever we were caught up with so much work in the office, we longed for public holidays. Then like rain on thirsty lands, we receive some update on a WhatsApp platform or online news website: some public holiday had been announced and was lurking behind the uninformed, waiting to see their surprised looks and giggles…
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I bring you blood
A cargo ship of hopesShipwreckedBeneath the sea’s toesLurkedGhosts of entrusted dreamsAnd progressHard-earnedSinking Foundations of steel sacrifices laidBricks of greed have replacedPaths of prosperity chartedOvergrown with weedAnd feetOf the coldhearted The Promiseland has become wastelandSince fallen heroes sankTo nether regionsAnd seasons have piled upon seasons The sea is no keeperOf wreckage it floatsBread cast upon the…
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Can you feel the silence?
The resilience of a peopleCrushed into hateLike juice of grapesTettered to constant shellingAnd constant sellingOf half-truths and half-bakedRealities by the media Surgical scissors and needlesMay sew woundsBut they can’t cup deep enoughTo reach the brokenness withinTo sew and stitchBroken hopes and promises Can you feel the silenceOf budding innocent lives mowed downBegging us to join…
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Echoes of a forgotten past
It was the kind of place everyone dreamt of goingNot because it was a place meant for the richBut because of the peace, quiet, calmJust something about the placeCalling the soul to come take a look at least onceIn a lifetimeSo many stories about the placeOf how great friends reconnected thereOf how people met the…
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Here he returns
I see him wave at familyAnd friendsAnd those in betweenAs he stood at the height of the airstairsGone to seek medical care abroadFor a diseases that has been knockingAnd he’s felt too scared to open Here he returnsAs a package flown in by airThe head of a family, mentor and leaderLying among luggageFamily confirms he…
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The reward of the resilient
PatienceWhen sprinkledInto boiling situationsTakes time to dissolveAnd colour complicationsWith its sweet, calm scent It’s a long lone roadThat journey between a dreamAnd it’s fulfilmentWhere tangible silenceQuestions one’s beliefsRendering faith brittle and cold No pair of handsCan stop the sun’s shineHave hope, even in the face of shame Don’t let these tidal wavesSink your calmBright sunny…
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I prepare the food basket
As I hurried with the basket of food over my headin the direction of the farm, I imagine the scene awaiting me: Students scattered across acres of yam moundsSome tilling, others weeding, the majority (girls)carrying weeds further off the farmland to be burnt I arrive, after a long walk towards the outskirts of the village…
Diary of a Wanderer 