My Love, Africa: Poem by Ohikhuare Isuku

Africa, throughout this night, I'll be with you;
We will run around the terrace
With love-clad eyes, debilitated hands,
Feet - weak like the shrubs frustrated
By arid harmattan winds.

We'll fall on each other gently
Like soft linen on a well-dressed bed;
Our lips touching, chatting in love language.

Africa, throughout this night, we'll blaze our fear-shivered union
With the flame of affection;
We'll trade our fear in the nightly darkness
And allow the wind to take it away.   

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Climax of a Patriot: Poem by Chidinma Ahika

Its so cold in here,

Nothing seems to matter,

Osundare's Not-My-Business

Sounds to me.

Every tenets so precious

Are webbed by the nets of the moment.

Every acts come to go their ways,

Each issues shoved above the brows.

The truth so bitter than

It ever tasted,

Vanities dribble my tiring thoughts,

Nothing seems to matter;

Fallen and broken,

The climax of a patriot.

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Longevity: Poem by Bright Afeikhe

LONGEVITY

Blessed with ages

The days of trees            

Long time keeper

Honey bees hiver

Sharp and distant through many moons

Sufficience through loyal gradient roots

Suck and absorb two elements, double tapping

Collect from many years that you may live long

Atavistic, landmark, non succumbing

To the wind, to the scorching sun circle

Erosionary waters, have left markings

Yet you nobly persist, over scores of

Longevity, and length of days

Work of your hands, many have eaten

Seeds of your plants, travelled abroad

Formed colonies of troops, just like you

Suddenly your strength fails, by razor

Like Samson, your torso goes down

But, here your progeny does not end

Because a stump stands

Left a stubborn you

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Senator Badmus: Poem by Ohikhuare Isuku

The upper house appears boisterous:
Chairs chiming as restless buttocks bully them.
The air is held uneasy; nasty noise:
Whistling whirling like sea storm.

All are seated; eyes soaked in fun,
Mouths moving; either chewing
Or congesting the already
Frustrated air with hooeys. 

But one senator Badmus
Has his head down on the smooth table.
Perhaps dreaming of the next jeep
He must add to his convoy.

'Honourable senators, please we need silence.'
Belled the clerk over the maze,
'Senator Bemin has a motion to raise.'
The noise soon subsides, seeing senator Bemin
Rising like a demon from the sea:
anger-soiled, hands and legs trembling, terrified,
Subdued under grave provocation.

'That man!' pointing to the sleeping senator,
'Is not worthy to be called senator of the federal republic.'
He eats up his own indignation
And regurgitates it;
now smeared with utter discontent.

'He's from my state. He has failed!' He continues,
Unrepentant, teeth clenched like a woman in labour.
'He was elected to represent his district,
But he sleeps every day. He should be suspended!'
He sits, satisfaction-snowed.

Senator Lowe springs up,
With face smile-sheathed
As soon as the Senate Governor allows him.
'With respect, Senate Governor,
Let me second the motion.'

He romances his jaws with his left palm,
Pushing his right fist forward like a spear.
'In addition to what my honourable colleague
has said, Badmus disturbs
us with his scaring snore.'
He let out a grin. Everybody joins.
'Just look at him snoring.
He has made here his bedroom.
I'm tempted to say he needs rest.
Let him go home and rest.'

'They're right!' the Upper House
Rumbles amid titters
As Lowe retires to his seat.
Now the Governor balances
His eye glasses on his age-creased face
As if he has been oblivious
Of the matter on ground;
But he can't deny moistening
His old face with smile all along.

'Before any action can be taken,
We must look into the matter properly.'
He glues his gaze on poor Badmus,
Snoring still; silenced by slumber.
'Wake him up if he
Has anything to say about this.'

Someone wakes Badmus who yawns peevishly.
He raises his head, agitated, shame-subdued.
'Senator Badmus.' Governor calls, 'What have you
To say about the raised motion?'

Badmus tinkles his lower jaw, in deep oblivion.
'I support the last speaker.'
He said at last as the House roars in laughter.
'Badmus…' Governor stutters, 'will you support
The motion for your exit from the house?' 

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The Essentials of Life: Philosophical Note by Christian Ovbaikhena Isuku

Life is vain, hollow but mysterious. It is the first as well as the most complicated programming ever done. It's so complex and intricately interwoven that it eludes and shall dodge any type of explanation; be it geographical, philosophical or even religious.

This life owes its complexity mainly to gross misunderstanding of its basic simple facet by man. Earthlings step into the complex without first enjoying the basic simple things of life.

Apart from serving his Almighty Creator, man is here at this time range and within this space of the cosmos basically to be born, taken care of till he could cater for himself; cater for himself for a while and then replicate himself or rather reproduce, all thing being equal together with if need be. Also to cater for his offspring for a while then die off-- either he goes back to his Creator as asserted by majority of the religions or simply goes into an eternal unconscious oblivion as upheld by most scientists and atheists. Whichever way, I don't care since he ceases to exist physically on this plain.

Succinctly put, man is primarily born to breathe, eat(drink), shelter, reproduce if need be and die. These remain basic and constant. Others are only additional entitlements which are being mistaken to increase pleasure. Fame, for instance is almost inconsequential to a fulfilled and simple life time; it is just one of these mundane, psychological and secondary wants which bring false sense of pleasure and fulfillment. To be more serious, can somebody bet on the fact that Aristotle of Greek philosophy and classical sciences as well as Abraham Lincoln of American politics still retain the knowledge anywhere they are (if at all they are somewhere) that their names are yet idolized, making waves and thought across the world today? If at all they are aware of thier names and praises being sung all over the world, then of what use or importance is it to them there? I know this is quite metaphysical in nature but, you can however attempt it if you can.

Pleasure itself on earth is almost an illusion and hence can be termed to be in nonexistence. It lasts for while, suddenly turning into pain when done at the extreme. Such that when totally refrained from also brings a kind of desire that accompanies deprivation. This also initiates pain and sorrow. Man is in a way admonished by nature to be moderate at the same time denying him basic parameters and sufficient attributes to attain this, hence his continuous deviance.

The fact is that what one can take as being close to pleasure and earthly euphoric state is nothing but setting and fulfilling goals and targets. If the goals are achieved there is joy, though momentary, but when there is failure to achieve these goals, there is sorrow and pain, this is also quickly eroded with another future set goals and target. Once man is unable to correct this state of sorrow for a long time probably as a result of loss of vital natural, psychological and even spiritual machinery to correct this, he now falls into depression, which itself is a state of lack of set goals and accompanying hopes of achievements; it is actually a state of lonliness in a world filled with co-humans and hence the urge to hurriedly leave the earth through the only known route- death.

So conclusively, we should endeavor to enjoy the basic things of life, these are actually programmed in nature. God has made it so. Being so ambitious is cool. Fellow humans falling on your feet singing your praises is fine but always take time to eat your natural meal of roasted maize and pear or roasted plantain, yam and oil; take your bath in slow moving glimmering stream, dry yourself by the naked fire flame and watch the sky, the stars and the magic they play alongside the moon, while at thesame time breathe in fresh, unadulterated air away from the industrial parks and cities polluted by modernization and misplaced civilization. This is also close to pleasure that I know here on earth. This is near a perfect life experience!

ISUKU O. ISUKU, jnr.

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Stephanie Otobo's Allegation and the Lack of Creativity

I watched Stephanie Otobo’s claim yesterday. From the incoherence in her voice and the vague descriptions she gave to places she actually alleged she went with Apostle Suleman, I discovered that although she was bold at her craft, she is scarcely creative. Perhaps, the gladiators behind the whole plot would have done well to seek the service of a more creative actress to play the written script, rather than the inexperience Otobo. Perhaps, an audition of who would take the leading role in the saga was thrown underground, but only the pink-hair lady was seen as qualified.

It is no longer a secret that Apostle Suleman’s reputation has come under attack, solely because the gladiators behind the scene feel that his criticisms of ethnic and religious cleansing have become tormenting. Thus, in a bid to seal the Clergy’s lips (the only one who has risen to defend Christians of recent), they could divert his attention from their devilish executions and hence keep the world blind.

Starting with the script which by any standard is considered mediocre; I would say it was either prepared in hurry or the scriptwriter lack the faintest ray of creativity through his or her brain. To start with, the setting of the script shouldn’t have been in Lagos. It should have been somewhere else, maybe in Ontario or New York. Then, maybe marriage should have been erased from the plot upon rereading. The marriage issue made the entire script incongruous and unreal. A public figure like Apostle Johnson Suleman would not promise a stripper marriage and go ahead to impregnate her when he knows fully well it would smell his reputation. It should have just been a sex story without marriage; perhaps it would have been real. There shouldn’t have been impregnation at all. The scriptwriter should have known that later on, evidences would be demanded.

And the claim that Apostle Suleman gave Otobo concoction to remove the pregnancy when she returned to Nigeria, and then the clergy left the hotel room for her to bleed to death was too surreal to be real. That part of the script should have been cut off before it was acted.  There are other parts of the scripts that were unprofessional, but I choose to discuss the above aspects because their incongruousness was too glaring, like the mediocre scripts acted by Nollywood. Please, for future purpose, scripts for blackmail should be properly written and edited so it will appear real.

Then, directing my criticism to the actress - Stephanie Otobo – I would say she did her best, but in the overall rating, she scored below average.   There are thousand and one talented ladies who could have played that script far better than Otobo. The way she was smiling while describing what she considered emotionally disturbing was unprofessional on her part. And for crying out loud, I expected the young lady to be able to say the script off hand instead of reading verbatim from the written script. I am taking my time to outline these errors because Nollywood industry has become irrelevant because of them.

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Celestial Perfection: Poem by Ohikhuare Isuku

If you look at the earth
and the whole possessions
she prides on her brows -
the sun, the stars, the moon,
the evergreen plains, valleys
and the verdant hills rising
unto the mercuric clouds -
you would notice that in totality,
they reflect how beauteous you are.

The sun captures your brightness;
the moon, your soothing calmness;
the stars are the flickers of light
you pile on your crown...

Then,
the evergreen plains,
the awesome valleys
and the bluish sky and oceans
speak of the freshness
which kisses your skin,
while the high-rising hills
model your welcoming pride.

Thus, because through your reflections,
through your awesome attributes,
the earth came to be,
you are not of earthly beauty,
but of celestial perfection.

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