YOU
You are what you were
Despite age, despite
the passage of time
Simple, fair, quiet
and unsoiled.
Since then, ions have
passed
Rains, wind, famine
and pestilence
War and even SAP.
In those days, trees
were evergreen
Now they wither and
decay
Egg and chicken taste
like rubber.
In those days we play
the three musketeers
In pursuit of gold,
seeking for your hand
A rifleman, a master
carver and yours sincerely.
We two lost, to the rifleman
The master carver,
retired patiently
Migration fated yours
sincerely.
Today, patience has
paid; migration in wait
Awaiting the inescapable,
the undecipherable
Verdict of destiny.
It is your memory I
nurse
These many years
Separated by innumerable
barriers.
Of distance, marriage
and class
Distancing us from
the lucidity
Of undying dreams.
In this narrow world
of intrigues and vanity
Faithlessness, absurdity
and folly
I recount the green days
we stayed together.
LET’’S JOIN
Sift the chaff
And pass the grain
Let’s join the
great debate
Who shall rule
As the best of men
Who has mission, vision
and all
The dark skinned
Or the set and thick
Scar in the eye or the bull in men?
Answer please and
Pass the debate
Join today and win in
the race
The lanky, slim, fair
And fast, the one I believe
Must win in the race
He only, shall in the
end
Bring us happiness and
Rid us of injustice and
woe.
T PAINS
It pains to see
A pregnant woman suffering
On the verge of delivery
It pains most
When she loses blood
Or the child or gives
up
It pains to see a woman
abandoned
Jilted, wasted, lured
Or left to fend for herself
It pains to see a woman
standing
In an assembly or bus
While men are sitting
down
It pains, nay it hurts
To see rivulets of salty
waters
Descending down her feeble
cheeks.
It pains again
To see Natanko
Always the last of the
best poor
Oh! It pains
When I shave
And my wife takes no
notice
Indeed it pains
To own a harem of cars
When your neighbour starves
Can you imagine the pain
When a girl rejects you?
And your enemy marries
her?
Worst pain is
When you give up life
struggle
And surrender to fate
young
What a pity my brother
You have joined the bandwagon
Of Ex-this and Ex-that
A journey towards nothingness
Prelude to being a nonentity
An end result in futility.
IN THIS PLACE
If you are born by ‘Mowa’
You will not suffer the
blade of Mower
Your house will be renovated
Scholarship will be secured
Fellowship will be granted
And topping allowance
added
Dollars at government’s
rate procured
Plus of course, extension
Even reconciliation
At the peril of overstaying.
But if you are born by
Bora
You shall never ride
Bora
A brand of car in fashion
Sleek resilient and trendy
You will have no security
light
Not to say renovation
Or such talk as promotion
No chance to fellow-a-ship
Nor even a pair of glasses
In case you break the
lenses
‘Who go dash monkey banana?’
When conference requires
attendance
Or per Diem as an allowance?
It is in this place
T h a t:
Nonentities clamour for
accolades
While misfits seek for
fame
H e r e:
You are not worth a spoon
of brass
Where others brag of
the silver.
