WASH MY TRASH

 

 

 

This was how it went down

Just before my countdown

I was sent in a lock down

And was seen as a downtrodden

Caressed and scourged

How did I get down?

 

I wouldn’t say

But I would if I could

I only slept for few seconds

Just to wake in a fine bondage

With someone feeding me with a pottage

Of course the one I trusted

 

So I told you about me

And you hated me for being me

Whose is it I grow?

While I called you “my person”

You pressed the button

And the dragon was unleashed

 

Well not this time

Because I woke while you slept

Took the fire extinguisher

And defended myself from the fire

Poured by your dragon

It had burned me enough

 

I wasn’t shock when I knew it’s you

But I felt pity for your actions

Because I defeated the nightmare

Kindly read the letter I sent you

“Dear Ex-trusted one,

Do wash my trash”

MY BLACK PANTHER HERO

 

 

So I wouldn’t say

But dumb I wasn’t

Though mute when I first heard

The news of the unfair truth

 Weak to accept I was

Because the shock was severe

 

He gave a new phase

A brave man he was

Inspired lots with his hard work

Why leave so soon?

 

 He tried fighting it

But it consumed him

He took too many pains in

Yet showed care to the helpless

A Black Super Hero he was

Why leave so soon?

 

Your deeds will be remembered

Your steps will be followed

Your name will be preached

This is how I chose to mourn you!

In loving memory of

Chadwick Boseman

Black super hero

Wakanda forever!

THE REAL PEOPLE

 

 

Shout out to all who cheat!

You were made the head

But you squeeze some pay

And lie to the rightful owners

That the country is hard

They become hopeless

You become richer

Grow fat in your sin

 

All hail the media!

To whom the people look up to for rescue

The eyes of the nation

With the power to effect change

And say enough to what is wrong

But it seems they are now chained

Because they chase profit

And not the interest of the people

 

All hail the youth!

The supposed pillars of the nation

But they have been traded for social media

And have been imprisoned with trending

Do they hear the clock tick?

Why smile to take peanuts

In exchange for the future

Wake up! Its day break

 

Oh! Righteous executives!

Is the government for the people?

Or for the government

What is democracy without expression?

Why jail the truth

And release lies

If the leaders are not to be trusted

Who are the real people?

 

picture credit: unknown photographer

KISS KARMA GOODBYE

 

        I learnt you missed a call

        From karma

        That wasn’t you being smart

        That was fate deciding

        Deciding on the never ending actions

        Don’t smile yet

        You have an unfinished business

 

Cheta doesn’t drink

But he is drunk

That’s what he gets from his

Castrated ugly past

Taking the cakes meant

For laborers was his hobby

No questions were thrown to him

Because he called the shots

The oppressed prayed for heaven

To rain brimstone

While he went on romantic dates

With embezzlement

Now the big shark is ready

 to swallow

Call it karma

 

What a world placed in a word!

The lion has been humbled

to eat grass

This is nature taking it course

You are close to a handful of tears

The tears has created a river

But you can’t swim in it

You shouldn’t have played

Gamble with nature

It has the code to your payback

How can this be mitigated?

 

You called Jimoh “Papa”

But you robbed him with pen

You should have returned

his pension

And it would have been an old story

But you took the fund

And danced with it

While he sunk in tears

And remained in pain

 

Being sincere would have saved you

Returning what you took

Would have blessed you

You made a choice

By ignoring your chance

Your crown is now your cross

No Simon of Cyrene to help

Carry it for you

You should have listened to the

Warning bells

It’s too late to kiss karma goodbye

It’s time to take

what you ordered for!

 

Poem: Maureen Onyinye Kenneth

Art credit: mbeh charlsearts

PLEASE, SAY MY NAME

 

 

I would if I could

But I can’t

I love to walk down memory lane

When I was papa’s girl

He called me princess

Because he’s my Dike

 

He always held my tender hand

Protected me with all

Taught me to be brave

Tolerated my failures

Until I became a victor

Because he’s my Dike

 

It’s not true what I heard

But can truth tell lie?

Can I get one more packet of smarties

And my dense long hair will be plaited

Please don’t be silent

It’s your little girl’s voice

 

I want to hear you giggle

I want to see your call on my screen

I want your blessings one more time

It’s so hard to say goodbye

But I want to rest my case

So you would rest in peace

 

Sleep well James Nwoye Adichie

Naa nke oma Odelu Ora Abba

 

 

 

 

 

THE BEAUTY OF AFRICAN FASHION

THE BEAUTY OF AFRICAN FASHION

 

Fashion all over the world is beautiful. But the uniqueness of it is making use of what you know with what you have to create more awesome styles. Africa is growing by the day, and what they know have made them to utilize what they have. Take for instance, the use of our local fabrics (Ankara) for making of eye-catching things that is making waves in the world. Great things like these don’t just happen; there are also great people with great minds that are behind these. I will be specific with one of these great minds that has fashioned what they fancy, Irene Oge Kenneth– CEO of Deramau Designs.

 

Deramau Designs has shown the real beauty of fashion making use of Ankara. This fashion style by this African daughter is extending from the ordinary styles that were seen in Africa, to the extraordinary styles that are not seen. One wouldn’t go for a taste he or she detests, but Deramau Designs is definitely an answer to some unanswered question of the African fashion most people had seen as ‘WHACKED’. Just hope the world is ready for this new African Fashion that wouldn’t just be worn in farms and market places, but also in award nights and in the world of entertainment, and in everywhere.

 

This would be achieved not just by one effort, but all efforts. African brothers and sisters can help grow this new African fashion by wearing what we produce. Deramau Designs can give the best which would make one ask for the rest. Go for the best.

 

It’s Africa, it’s unique, It’s extraordinary, it’s creative styles, it’s fashion, its Deramau Designs.

THE SECRET BEHIND PASSION

 

Passion isn’t just being creative; it involves doing what you love. I’m a witness because I’m one of those who love what they do. I’ve being writing ever since I was nine, but it didn’t occur to me what I was doing until I grew up to understand why I would choose it over most things. Do you know what you want most or what you like doing best without regret? It’s called passion. It is the act of being fully involved in a talent.

 

 WHAT DO YOU CHOOSE?

 

Some people have lots of talents, but the one they fancy and practice most is their passion. You don’t need to be paid in order to pursue it, you pursue it because you love it, and it gives you an innermost happiness. Passion doesn’t let one rest until he/she gets an accomplishment. It hungers for more accomplishment even when you’ve accomplished a lot; that means being passionate is being hungry- literally. The hunger to chase and catch a target, the hunger to search and find, the hunger to start and finish, the hunger to strive till you win.

 

THE TRUTH

 

Have you ever wondered what you are, and what you would be? There can’t be answers to these questions if you don’t know what you are good at. Sometimes the problem is not just the problem, sometimes the problem is you; because you restrict yourself. In all, the only one to make all of these possible is you. You are the secret behind passion.

I’M AN AFRICAN WOMAN

    

 

I’m a woman

Yes! An African woman

Who knows her wants

And respects her deeds

 

I’m taught to respect

But I also deserve respect

To maintain my essence

And be the best me

 

I’m a reason

For multiplication

No woman

No generation

 

I make meals

To make it real

If they think it’s a deal

Then I do have a choice

 

I’m born and will reborn

It’s a beautiful thing

It’s not just a story

It’s my glory

 

 

Call me a woman

An adorable woman

An African adorable woman

A super African adorable woman!

 

 

 

 

SOWING

 

 

Good morning sir!

I see your handwork

I salute your fat muscles

 

Don’t pretend you don’t hear anything

The tears that runs down her cheeks

So innocent but you didn’t take cognizance

 

The liar and cheat you call her

Is your real name

But you keep pretending

 

I hear you preach on the pulpit

Forgive and learn to love

Yet you punch her like a slave

 

She dare not speak

Because she doesn’t know

Whether to leave or stay

 

She planted love

But you let it die

While she bleeds you fed

 

She once had a heart

But you made it a stone

So enjoy the meal.

 

Art credit: charlse mbeharts

Poem: Maureen Onyinye Kenneth

TO MY IGBO ANCIENT QUEEN (ACHALAUGO NWANYI)

 

 

When I speak of beauty

I see my Igbo ancient queen.

She doesn’t need to be beautified

For she is the goddess

of beauty.

 

She stopped a four year war

With her smile’s.

Nne! Iya egbu ha!

Biko jiri ya nwayoo!

 

Her skin glitz like the stars

Her eyeballs are like the sun

So shinny that

I can’t even look deep

In her eyes.

Her palms are so soft

That I wish for her touch

Every passing moment

Her hug made me sell all my properties

Just to purchase a castle on air

Where we could live forever

If permitted by the gods.

But, is it possible?

 

Oh! It’s only a dream.

I should better start going

Before my imagination

Cost me my fortune.

 

Art credit: Dora Alis

Poem: Maureen Onyinye Kenneth

 

 

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