SAMUEL ADEYOYIN (soade2003@yahoo.ca)

Samuel Olu Adeyoyin hails from Oyo State. A librarian, freelance journalist, public affairs analyst, prolific writer, scholar, poet and critic. With professional articles published in both local and foreign journals and many on-going research works including two books in the press. A product of LARIS Dept., University of Ibadan and Mass Communication Dept., Imo State University, Owerri. A staff of Igbinedion University, Okada. He is married with children. 

WOMEN ARE GOLD 

The ideal wife’s place is at home                                             Her duties are simply                                                Bringing forth her children                                         Feeding her husband, and on time                                     Looking after the home and her babies                                       Male chauvinist you may say                                Females are no footballs                                                         To be kicked all around                                                       Women are to be honoured                                                   Loved, respected and caressed                                          Good women are gold                                                          They are not ubiquitous                                              Like the hyssop leaf in Israel                                                 They reciprocate their love                                                 With high sense of allegiance                                           Loving and obeying their husbands                                    Modest and godly                                                     Whosoever found her                                                                  Truly received the favour of God.

MY VILLAGE CATHEDRAL 

When the white man came                                                              He met my grandfather worshipping.                         Something in man craves for worship                                                Grandpa responded according to his culture                 The white man brought his own                                      Idea of worship though                                                        But certain of better value and judgment

The white man brought the Bible                                  The biblio brought Life and fresh hope

Grandpa hardly saw what the white man brought                            But faith overtook every other thing                                The shrines were destroyed                                                                       And gods denounced                                               Foundation was laid and a Cathedral built                       The high pinnacle was my attraction as a child                                           The cross on the pinnacle was real to me                           Singing “My faith looks up to thee…”                                           I visualized the pinnacle like Golgotha                                                  Only wondered how the wicked soldiers                                 Could climb so high                                                           Just to crucify                                                                    And nail the Righteous man to the cross                             They probably must have used                                                  A very high ladder                                                          Obsessed by my village Cathedral                                                       I never can loose its sight                                                                        Going with my father                                                              On Sundays was a routine                                                  Teach your child the way he shall go                                                  I am grown never to depart                                                                        From the way to                                                                             My village Cathedral.

AGBADAGBUDU 

Agbadagbudu! Agbadagbudu!                                           Ancient stream                                                                  Source unkempt                                                              Channel unguided                                                                Who sank your well?                                                      Ownership was never claimed                                    Abandoned in the rain                                              Community’s toast in autumn                                             In quest for what you have                                                 Without permission they thronged                              Swindles uncountable                                                         From every angle they kite                                                      Only to land inside the ring                                                   On man’s head was written, “exit”                                                   A splash inside the ring                                                  Denotes the commencement of exercise                                  If the success was crucial in mind                                           A guard of intimidating stamina                                         Was of importance to the game                                               To protect the fetcher                                                        While the fetched is jealously guarded                               Otherwise the effort of many hours                                      Would yield no fruit of evidence                                                             Flex your muscle and go fulfilled                                      Refrain yourself and be entertained                             Methink it is easier for you                                                      To wash and bathe with entertainment? 

PUBLIC SERVANT 

Public servant?                                                                               I beg your pardon                                                                  How dare you                                                                                                                   Call my boss a public servant?                                                  A whole Minister of the Federal Republic                                

Public servant?                                                                 Your bushy hair reveals                                                           How bushy you are                                                           You opened your mouth                                                       And closed it like a tailor’s scissors                          Calling Chief a public servant?                                          Illiterate of the highest order                                                 Don’t you have                                                         Ordinary beginner’s education?                                                      Don’t you know                                                                A servant when you see one?                                                           No doubt you’re in the wrong place

For your information, this is GRA                                Ignoramus of the century                                               Your senses must be upside down                                                             How many servants in your house                                     Are in possession of what you see here?                                    A servant don’t have a house of his                                         He lives in his master’s house                                                   Fed by his master                                                                He serves diligently                                                        Giving account of his stewardship                                         

“My Oga is not accountable to anybody”                                   It’s simply the time to take his share                                     Stupid thing                                                                                      Will you vamoose before I loose my temper?            (Soliloquizing)                                                                                  Idiot!                                                                                       He must have to learn                                                                                       To use the correct word next time                                                                                    (Public looter).

SPILLED OIL 

In ransom for their lives                                                         It spilled valuable oil                                                        Lying prostrate from page to page                                          Like the fall of mother elephant                                       Tricked by tortoise to become a king                                               The crowd gathered at no invitation                                       Since only the mouth access the stomach                                          An injured mouth with spilled oil                                Carcassed by the mother elephant                             Alternative tube of two hours wheel                                               An adventure to imagine                                                   But unknown destination                                                     Rolled like sepulchre stone                                                              They merchandized the spilled oil                                               Spilled but not wasted                                                          The oil lubricated those                                                         Who cared to care for the spilled oil.

SPILLED OIL 

In ransom for their lives                                                         It spilled valuable oil                                                        Lying prostrate from page to page                                          Like the fall of mother elephant                                       Tricked by tortoise to become a king                                               The crowd gathered at no invitation                                       Since only the mouth access the stomach                                          An injured mouth with spilled oil                                Carcassed by the mother elephant                             Alternative tube of two hours wheel                                               An adventure to imagine                                                   But unknown destination                                                     Rolled like sepulchre stone                                                              They merchandized the spilled oil                                               Spilled but not wasted                                                          The oil lubricated those                                                         Who cared to care for the spilled oil.

HIGH UP