Strike me no more, I plead For I am the mother of your children Your wife , your lover, your helper , Your friend , your rock and your sanctuary I have shared and carried your burden Forgiven your humanness without judgment And loved you unconditionally Strike me no more , I plead My … Continue reading Strike Me No More …
I don’t know what happened. I don’t know how it happened. I don’t even know when it happened, and my God!, I swear I am so afraid it happened. THEY ARE ALL DEAD! ALL OF THEM!! But how? Oh God! Please wake me from this nightmare. Just give my body a tap and I know … Continue reading Whistle of Death: Scream of a Thousand Corpses- Episode 1
When I was born, I was told I did not cry as was expected of a newborn. The midwife had starred hard at me, her thick eyebrows creased in a frown, and taking me to the fire side where a clay pot boiled over in the corner of the hut , she had held me … Continue reading Baby Girl…
The gods of our fathers, take a seat. Yes, I speak to you, protectors of the ancient landmarks, come here, take a seat and hear my case. I hate to follow my senses at this time, but I think I believe them when they tell me you are all asleep. Or even dead! Protectors of … Continue reading Sleeping Gods
My legs refused to move And my fist clenched on its own accord It is worse than having a cobra on the roof If my love would die sinking in the mud The king had decreed so That my happiness be taken away Death shall avenge at the third crow And at my feet shall … Continue reading Why Her?
Bio Name : Aghogho Sam Location : Lagos (Federal Republic of Nigeria) Summary: After Warri’s secession from Nigeria, the oil rich nation joined the ranks of developing countries. But did this development in Warri change the outdated mindsets and traditions of the people ? ———————————————————————————————————————————- When Warri Republic was declared an independent state, everyone … Continue reading What if Warri was a country: Warri 2052
On those patchy laterites My fathers children used to stoop and squat White chalk painted eyes Like crescent moon emitting smiling light Sprinkled blood statues of sacrificial fowls Left about the places of scattered feathers Of chewed kola nut and alligator pepper Yet, peace we knew. Hungry parched earth appeased Tongues-throats of our ancestors Of … Continue reading My Fathers Children
In blacks she was covered Her secret discovered Revelation of bald head Agonic laughter Her eyes rivers of waters Her cry never the matter The dead never to be cursed The crime only to be judged Never a more proof found Yet she bears no frailty Never a law suit filed Lest she prove not … Continue reading Nnuego
I am nude Raving mad in my prime A black mist Strung up by cultural cords Soldier without arms In a battle with selfish Lords; Death and his moths The cold form of the man I love Lying forlorn in a dark deep Dead, dead to the world Dead to me He took with him, … Continue reading Madeya
A certain induction After the several songs, thoughts, losses and all, the voice gently cried, “Time.” It was enough. Two decades and more coming in the fusion of words brought together to form slight lines of verses and stanzas. The songs sprang out while the others threw the pretence, coming in chants. A servant, the … Continue reading A Certain Induction – Shrine Tale
If you want to get the word out, you can telegraph, telephone or tell-a-woman… :) SUGHUR-SHA-TER-AÔNDO-KWA-HEMBA-U-GA Sughur-sha-ter-aôndo-kwa-hemba-u-ga Screams my name Fully knit without the apostrophe Cutting the impact of a lot It was the same 28 letters Singing distortingly beautiful lips That gave me thoughts You asked what it was “Like it?” … Continue reading All In A Name
As I slam my pestle into the unlucky pieces of yam lying helplessly in the mortar, my heart pounds rhythmically against my chest. I feel the seismic vibration. It complements the pestle-pummelling-mortar sound nicely. The harmony of both pounding sounds is however not as synchronized as the one that comes out of Mama Shade’s kitchen. … Continue reading Keeping Family Tradition