Tuesday, 29 November 2016

I Killed a Snake Today: Poem by Ohikhuare Isuku

I killed a snake today,
It was you I killed -
The fear coiled around
Your flesh, glistening
Like glass reflecting the sun.

I did not slit your throat,
As you reared like an adder
Across the lean path,
Rather I cut you in halves

Your rear half
Rolled down the small hill
That walled the path,
While your other half hurried
Into the bramble with
Your thick fear like cloud;
It would bite the trunk
Of an Iroko, and
Become still like a plinth.


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Sunday, 27 November 2016

Oshiomhole's Legitimate Stealing: Why is the Presidency Silent?

Image result for oshiomhole    It was shocking and embarrassing few days ago when Edo state legislative puppets hurriedly passed a squalid bill which spells that past Governors and Deputy Governors would henceforth be entitled to some juicy benefits from the state’s already drained purse. These entitlements include, for past Governors each: A five-star mansion worth a whooping sum of 200million naira in any location within the country; three cars which certainly would worth about 200million naira – these cars, as we were educated by the heinous bill, would be changed once in every five years; three drivers, three cooks and a secretary starting from level 12; free medical care for all the members of the governors. For the Deputy Governors each: 100million naira mansion, three cars to be changed once in every five years, cooks, driver, as well as secretary to be paid by our ‘poor’ government. This is not to overlook the free medical treatment for them and their immediate family.

At present, four past Governors would benefit from this callous gesture – Adams Oshiomhole, Lucky Igbinedion, Professor Osunbor and Samuel Ogbemudia. Thus, this bill if signed into law by the present State Governor (which is most likely) would warrant the state government to immediately pull out approximately two billion naira: an amount that if utilized without bias would be enough to create a medium-size company (like shoe-making factory) which could absorb many unemployed youths and in turn increase the state’s IGR.

Since this crazy bill which mocks the downtrodden was passed in the ludicrous State House of Assembly, the immediate past Governor of the state – a self-righteous man in his own right – has continued to trade the path of silence.  This unhealthy silence from the self-acclaimed People’s Governor is not only disturbing, it is ignominious and sad, and it further lends credence to the fact that certainly Oshiomhole had planned his own juicy entitlements while in power; that may have been the reason why he was so emotional about enthroning Obaseki as his successor either by hook or crook.

Like other politicians who have trodden the corridor of power in Nigeria, Oshiomhole and his cohorts are callous, greedy and to a large extent, have committed a great disservice to humanity – to the civil servants the state has owned heavily in pretense of a recessive economy – to the pensioners (old people with wobbling frames) who queue up to collect their meagre pensions and sometimes die in the process – to the students deprived of scholarships and quality Education – to the motorists denied of accessible roads despite the taxes imposed on them – to those who roll their stomachs against their mats to quell the ravaging hunger.


But what I am completely mesmerized by now is why the ‘saintly’ presidency which has publicly showed its detest for corruption and oppression has grown a deaf ear to the wailing of the ordinary Edo, crying inside the bramble Oshiomhole has set ablaze? Is it because Oshiomhole belongs to the Presidency’s camp of the political divide? Let posterity answer these questions for us as we behold without complaints, those whose banners carry ‘CHANGE’ lead us into dire economic atmosphere. 
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Tuesday, 22 November 2016

MMM Nigeria: What Wrong Has Mavrodi Done Our Lawmakers?

Image result for mmm logoIt's no longer something hidden that the 'Giant of Africa' has slipped into dire economic mess - an ugly situation which has resulted from past economic mismanagement and current managerial blankness on the part of those galloping the corridor of power. This present economic hardship has made itself obvious through hike in price, decadence in public infrastructure as well as high rise in corruption and other civil offences.

Lately, investment in the economy has been stalled wholly due to the turbulence in the Naira-Dollar brawl which has recently become unstable as the waves of the Atlantic Ocean. This has further heightened economic trepidation and charged atmosphere of poverty and terror.

It was amidst this economic woe that the wonder bank - MMM - came to ameliorate the poor aura of sadness of the Nigerian masses. Because this online wonder bank has proven countless times to be more efficient than the conventional banks which steal their customers and charge a fee for this injustice, the Nigerian people have decided to invest in this scheme despite the imminent risk which glares at them boldly. This has yielded overwhelming success beyond all reproach, thus garnering a firm reputation for the online wonder bank in Nigeria.

But the toothless dogs have barked yet again. Recently, our lawmakers have turned their 'caring' eyes to the culprit (this time around MMM Nigeria); they allege that it has robbed Nigerians of their wealth. When did our lawmakers start caring for the poor masses? Did they care for ordinary Nigerians when they squandered the collective wealth and dragged everyone into this enduring recession? Did they care for the downtrodden when herdsmen slaughtered defenseless Nigerians or when Soldiers died in Sambisa forest for want of quality arms? Then, why this particular interest in MMM scheme? Does MMM affect them in some roundabout way unknown to us? For it is widely known that unless a policy affects the nobles, they do not rise to complain, posing a disguise of representing the general public.

Perhaps, these morbid janitors are lost at sea as regards the workings of this online gesture; that there is no central place everyone pays money to. Rather, money is being transferred from one hand to another while Mavrodi moderates as an umpire. Thus, it must be clearly stated here that if this fight by these denizens against the general public persists, it is but right cudgels are held up against these Talibans in brocade.


Ohikhuare Emmanuel Isuku,
(Poet, Writer)
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Monday, 21 November 2016

Imagination: Literary Work by Mgbebuihe Obioma Esther

Image result for jesus     A flash of light, beams of my spirit clear the way for subtle feelings of my mind. In an attempt of greatness, my mind looks beyond the original. In the physique of my mind I thought I could beguile but behold it crunches and cranks up like a cranking prawn. I laughed so loud as the light was only a mirage, yes a mirage of hope, but could it really be? What! Did I say so? Of course it is. A lively hope of glory circling the fruitful pleasures of my heart with thoughts bubbling in my head yet never to be unlocked. Fluttering in my mind are unlimited pleasures of imaginations so wide and fair that I wonder casting it becomes my lot so much of it that I fear. But behold the light comes again, this time shinning like an unusual fire fly. The dragons in my heart begging to refuse but like a net on fire caught in the locks of misery, I jump into the pool of imagination again. The condition of my heart tells of the yearning of a better "imaginator" never to let me alone working the battle of my mind. In him I find an assurance that this flicking light will never go off; this light lightening the deep desires of my soul will never be put out.

Like a hunter's torch, my heart keeps burning within, outside, deeper and lower---what a confusion!! I run back to this man whose personality keeps me bewildered and never to stutter again. I cling to him for my life lies in his breast with my hands stretching to hold just the hem of his flowing garment so I would be declared free from the prison of my mind knowing I'd found a comely physician whose eyes dazzle with glory.

And now like a child I cower at the blazing glory of his soothing presence. Even if I flicker, cower, stutter, tremble, it is only in the cloves of his beautiful heart; a heart full of love for me. He picks up my imagination, weighing it on the scale of his feet and declared me discharged and acquitted. I marvel at this glorious declaration. Can this be me? I have run a full race into Adam's line of thought but now my days of glory have started for he has renewed my mind.

As stunning as it seems I know this time it's real, no longer a mirage, no longer news, but a long-lasting reality hunting and binding me. Let this love flow to my whole being, cleansing the envisions of uncultured heart for tonight, this day, I give my flickering mind to the glory of his imagination....

Written by:
Mgbebuihe Obioma Esther
Department of Educational Foundations
English and Literature
University Of Benin.
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Thursday, 17 November 2016

Mango Seedling: Poem by Chinua Achebe

Through glass window pane
Up a modern office block
I saw, two floors below, on wide-jutting
Concrete canopy a mango seedling newly sprouted
Purple, two-leafed, standing on its burst
Black yolk. It waved brightly to sun and wind
Between rains—daily regaling itself
On seed-yams, prodigally.

For how long?
How long the happy waving
From precipice of rainswept sarcophagus?
How long the feast on remnant flour
At pot bottom?
   Perhaps like the widow
Of infinite faith it stood in wait
For the holy man of the forest, shaggy-haired
Powered for eternal replenishment.
Or else it hoped for Old Tortoise’s miraculous feast
On one ever recurring dot of cocoyam
Set in a large bowl of green vegetables—
   These days beyond fable, beyond faith?
   Then I saw it
Poised in courageous impartiality
Between the primordial quarrel of Earth
And Sky striving bravely to sink roots
Into objectivity, mid-air in stone.

I thought the rain, prime mover
To this enterprise, someday would rise in power
And deliver its ward in delirious waterfall
Toward earth below. But every rainy day
Little playful floods assembled on the slab,
Danced, parted round its feet,
United again, and passed.

It went from purple to sickly green
Before it died,
   Today I see it still—
Dry, wire-thin in sun and dust of the dry months—
Headstone on tiny debris of passionate courage.
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Friday, 11 November 2016

Love Apart: Poem by Christopher Okigbo



Image result for okigbo 


The moon has ascended between us,
Between two pines
That bow to each other;

Love with the moon has ascended
Has fed on our solitary stems;

And we are now shadows
That cling to each other,
But kiss the air only
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Tuesday, 8 November 2016

Man is Still A Child: Poem by Ohikhuare Isuku

Image result for nigeria flag


After nearly three scores
of his joyous birth,
the man is still a child,
creeping,
crawling with kibbled limbs
And useless feet.

The lords drain his blood
while their minstrels
beat the drum of their pride,
swaddled with coats
sewn with tanned flesh.

Three scores raise dust
scattered around the sky,
yet childishness
rides the man like a thoroughbred;
urine and feces strew
his tattered clothes,
hollow cheeks bulge out
like calabash,
hair lay useless like hay

Even now,
these monsters have dared
to tear off his flesh
as food
since his blood
is dry like a pond
In the middle of harmattan.  
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Watch Video of Late Lt Col M, Abu-Ali When He Was Promoted Last Year For His Gallantry


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Saturday, 5 November 2016

Inconsistency in Nigerian University Admission: If God Does Not Punish Adamu Adamu, Buhari Won't

Mallam Adamu Adamu's tyranny and lack of coordination did not start when he pulled the darkness over admission process in Nigerian Universities. It actually started few months after his appointment as education minister, when he unlawfully sacked thirteen vice-chancellors the previous administration had supervised their appointments. This was one of the revenge missions of the ministry, to obliterate the mechanisms put in place by the previous administration - which has been baptized as corrupt overtly.

I raise no eyebrow against anti-graft war, especially if it is geared towards purging the already putrefying public systems. But this war must be done within the tenet of the constitution of the federal republic of Nigeria. So the sacking of thirteen vice-chancellors by the over zealous minister was unusual if the law is read with precision and clear judgement. Yet, even when many associations such as NANS charged against this injustice - to truncate the internal democracy of the governing councils of these institutions of higher learning - Mallam Adamu Adamu was too proud to renege on his dubious action worthy of hanging. Worst still, there was no formal statement from the presidency condemning the action of the minister; a situation which lent substance to the fact that the presidency was in total harmony with the move by the minister. In fact, the mater plan was drafted by the presidency while the minister was only sent as an executioner.

Armed and bloated with the success of his most recent escapade, Mallam Adamu Adamu has again stabbed tertiary institutions hard. This time around, he did not lay onslaught on thirteen or less, rather, he has taken all of them by surprise. Earlier this year, using JAMB and NUC as his agents, Adamu Adamu abruptly announced the end of Post UTME for Universities in the country. Surprisingly, there was no solid plan in place to substitute for the structure which had already been uprooted.

This action of the Minister has raised doubts about his managerial capability, and even to a large extent his claim to the Accountancy Certificate he prides from Ahmadu Bello University. Had he been punctual in class, he would have been taught a lesson or two which border on the importance of Contingency Plan.

Now with the indecision rocking admission process since the need of fresh students came up - from the firm decision that JAMB would henceforth offer admission based on some ridiculous benchmarks to the shameful fall of that plan - Nigerian Universities have been swaying here and there like a ball on a wavy sea. Some of these institutions (for the sake of their academic calendars)  have even commenced new session despite the fact that fresh year students are no where to be found.

With all this mess stuck around the honorable minister, the presidency is silent again. It is very obvious that he would go free and spotless a second time.

Image result for mallam adamu adamu
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Wednesday, 2 November 2016

I Am Not A Poet: Poem by Christian Ovbas Isuku

Image result for baobab
Though I am not a poet
But is of truth that we are no longer
mother nature's pet 
Hitherto harmless flowers now
turning thorns
Piercing flesh maliciously into
wounds of worms
Under the last shady tree I sit
Contemplating what the young sun
holds far in the east
Or should I just climb up and have
fun along the tree?
Though I am not a poet.
I am blessed philosopher
Because I tap my last strength and power
Seeking answers once met for the
gods
Or am I now a cursed philosopher
with swords
Of bitter truth earthed in arrears?
Of truth with 'malevolent' , sour-cold
taste of vinegar
Lincoln was my legendary icon
Well, I am not a poet.
Like a little brother watching porn
I am beclouded with fear amidst
pleasure
Life sounding hope-reassured horn
What can I say is our fate, after all
these earthly enclosures are burst
open by our last calm breath?
Well, I was a big fan of Einstein
So, I am not a poet.
Now the sun brings darkness
everyday
And the cloud cries down steamy
rain
Our earth now frowns at us through
flower
Or is Isuku becoming cynical?
Though I was Aristotle's grand pet
But certainly not a poet!


Christian Ovbas Isuku is a guest blogger who has since had passion for philosophy and political criticism. He graduated from Ambrose Alli University, Ekpoma, Edo state, Nigeria in 2014. 
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November Smile: Poem by Ohikhuare Isuku

When I saw the crescent moon
Lying on the grayish sky,
It was November smile
Which smeared across
Its tiny face…


Across its golden face
Near the western vale
In the midst of the
Evening breeze.

The stars were distant,
The sky perfectly clear,
The blessings of this dry month
Have embraced the winds -
This quiet air we breathe.

And when next harmattan comes,
Tell its hazy winds,
Yuletide is nigh!
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Africa: Poem by David Diop

POET'S BIOGRAPHY: David Diop [1927-1960 ] was born in Bordeaux, France, Diop is often considered one of the most promising French West African poets. His short life's work often involved his longing for Africa and his empathy for those fighting against the French colonization of the mainland. His work shows a hatred for the oppressors and the aforementioned empathy for the oppressed.

Africa my Africa
Africa of proud warriors in ancestral savannahs
Africa of whom my grandmother sings
On the banks of the distant river
I have never known you
But your blood flows in my veins
Your beautiful black blood that irrigates the fields
The blood of your sweat
The sweat of your work
The work of your slavery
Africa, tell me Africa
Is this your back that is unbent
This back that never breaks under the weight of humiliation
This back trembling with red scars
And saying no to the whip under the midday sun
But a grave voice answers me
Impetuous child that tree, young and strong
That tree over there
Splendidly alone amidst white and faded flowers
That is your Africa springing up anew
springing up patiently, obstinately
Whose fruit bit by bit acquires

The bitter taste of liberty.
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We Have Come Home: Poem by Lenrie Peters

POET'S BIOGRAPHY

Lenrie Peters was born (1st September 1932) Lenrie Leopold Wilfred Peters in Gambia to a Sierra Leonean Creole of West Indian or black American origin and a Gambian Creole mother of Sierra Leonean Creole origins. He schooled in Sierra Leone where he gained his Higher School certificates and then went on to a BSc. from Trinity College, Cambridge. He was awarded a Medical and Surgery diploma from Cambridge in 1959 and then he worked for the BBC on their Africa programmes from 1955 to 1968.
At Cambridge, Peters baptised himself in Pan-Africanist politics and became the president of the African Students’ Union. He also started work on his only novel, The Second Round, which he later published in 1965. Among other medical and professional associations including the Commonwealth Writers Prize Selection Committee 1996 and the Africa Region of the Commonwealth Prize for fiction, judge 1995, he served as the head of the West African Examinations Council from 1985 to 1991.
Peters is considered one of the most original voices of modern African poetry. He is a member of the African founding generation writing in English and has shown extensive pan-Africanism in his three volumes of poetry although his single novel received critique as being more British, accusing of African cultural decline and less African overall. His poetry was mixed with medical terms sometimes and his later works were angrier at the state of Africa than his first volume of poetry.
Peters passed away in 2009.
We Have Come Home
We have come home
From the bloodless wars
With sunken hearts
Our booths full of pride-
From the true massacre of the soul
When we have asked
‘What does it cost
To be loved and left alone’
We have come home
Bringing the pledge
Which is written in rainbow colours
Across the sky-for burial
But is not the time
To lay wreaths
For yesterday’s crimes,
Night threatens
Time dissolves
And there is no acquaintance
With tomorrow
The gurgling drums
Echo the stars
The forest howls
And between the trees
The dark sun appears.
We have come home
When the dawn falters
Singing songs of other lands
The death march
Violating our ears
Knowing all our loves and tears
Determined by the spinning coin
We have come home
To the green foothills
To drink from the cup
Of warm and mellow birdsong
‘To the hot beaches
Where the boats go out to sea
Threshing the ocean’s harvest
And the hovering, plunging
Gliding gulls shower kisses on the waves
We have come home
Where through the lightening flash
And the thundering rain
The famine the drought,
The sudden spirit
Lingers on the road
Supporting the tortured remnants
of the flesh
That spirit which asks no favour
of the world
But to have dignity.
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