The curse

The curse

He’s driven,driven by hope,believe and faith. He’s motivated,motivated by love,honesty and affection. He waits for time to feed from his mothers breast. Starvation, he never knew was a test. His bed, filled with so much uncomfort. Existence is the only one he can consult. He’s driven,driven by frustration,poverty and sordidness. He’s motivated,motivated by war,crisis and … Continue reading The curse




You had your bath with bucket full
of morning dew
She had hers, with late morning muddle

Hunger struck the fragile part of you;
swiftly she offered her milk,
And your hungry toddler suppled quick , quick.

Every night, on her bed like the mill
You snore
While she mellow on the perishing cold floor.

Sickness gnashed your teeth
Day and night,she  scoured the bush
looking to remedies , to make you fit.

Cold hit the room, you began the shiver
She heard your quiver, all she offered
was her only wrapper!

That night,you laid and slept in peace
But someone almost pneumonia
at 0 degree of point of freeze.

When you go to school,
It was in different pairs of glowing shoes
She went as usual to market , barefooted
with soles , badly bruised.

Dinner food for you was heap of
nourished food
Do you know she scampered the street,
scavenging leftovers in trash cans,all  round the hood?

You graced parties , with upmarket
clothes gotten from Mandilas
She shamed her august meetings, with
faded George, and her booth in usual tatters.

Your university admission , cum
Graduation, came on the platter
of her sweat
Remember she hawked’ akara ‘, sweat blood
just for dreams to stood erect…


Old lady rots away in the village
Big boy sow wild oats , for  different

Last time she visited your  estate,
Her room was furnished out there -
outside your mansion gate.
you have  gone, gone again to see
important folk- time to jubilate!

 Don’t you remember the tongue that
licked your wound?

What about the bowl of heap of food?
so soon, someone is dementia of
her stench, sweat, that gave the stretch.

Now  to your rich,
mama is suddenly the sucking witch
In just a twitch, she has suddenly turned
to a pool of ditch

Ah accursed! Ah accursed!
I fear for this road you tend
Ah ! I fear for your end.



Hi everyone, It is unfortunate that I have to announce the discontinuation of my posts on naijastories, due to discovering, much to my displeasure, my first chapter “War” being posted on another site by another Nigerian named Raj, as his own work.  See link below. It is possible that this Raj, is a frequent … Continue reading Plagiarism

Call For Participation – 2015 100 Thousand Poets For Change Poetry Reading Art Exhibition And Workshop

Call For Participation - 2015 100 Thousand Poets For Change Poetry Reading Art Exhibition And Workshop

CALL FOR PARTICIPATION - 2015 100 THOUSAND POETS FOR CHANGE POETRY READING ART EXHIBITION AND WORKSHOP CALL FOR PARTICIPATION @ 2015 100 THOUSAND POETS FOR CHANGE POETRY READING ART EXHIBITION AND WORKSHOP Are you an upcoming poet or a lover of poetry? Are you an artist looking for where to exhibit your artworks? Do you … Continue reading Call For Participation - 2015 100 Thousand Poets For Change Poetry Reading Art Exhibition And Workshop

The Ujuzi - by Deji AKIN

“THE UJUZI (A Collection of Contemporary African Short Stories and Poems)” - FINALLY LAUNCHED!

The book - THE UJUZI (A Collection of Contemporary African Short Stories and Poems); written by Deji_AKIN of Levuz Writes’ Organization, Obafemi Awolowo University was finally launched on Saturday, July 4 2015. Attended by several members of the university community at the Auditorium 2, Humanities Blook 2, Obafemi Awolowo University; ****************************** Ujuzi is a Swahili … Continue reading “THE UJUZI (A Collection of Contemporary African Short Stories and Poems)” - FINALLY LAUNCHED!

Lest We Are Fooled Again.

Lest We Are Fooled Again.

Lest we are fooled again!

Our expiring breath is the only
Coolant , for this blistering engine
The insatiable knife ,tire not
From its numerous heartless slaughter,
Of our dear innocent lamb.

They cannot  stop , the
wrangle of more throats
For the ever gushing fountain
Has its source from our fury , slit breath.

Our vibrating legs , are not for ‘Shoki’
Or another modern age dance
But of writhing  agony, from  our struck souls.

We are the sacrificial lamb
Whose slaughter goes on ceaselessly,
on this lump of the dredge skulls.
My blood, Theirs, sprinkle,as
 the propitiatory sacrifice
To placate the angst of some unknown gods.

Our blood is the fresh twine  you see
On the eaves of megalomaniac men
For the Angels  of kill keep coming
To Egypt , and no red twine on doorpost
Their Israelite shall not survive- No passing over!

I fear f or you though, Our first born
Snoring on the foamy bed of jeopardy
Where is the blood on our  posts?
All we got is been spilled , under duress
With gun pointed to skulls ,and fluid poured into the abyss jar of
Imposing gods.

So what will be left in the carcass we will
soon bloat on the skin of our muddle waters?

   11 (helpless)

Yet , when the deck goes down
Our waifs must make  sure they stand up erect
Even though we are now suctioned , beyond
the realm of pity.
Our fluid drips out its remaining droplets
whence , we still pick their clarion calls
with our proverbial dog ears
And dashed off to work.
For we fear a fall , we still fear
The splatter in these heck
we fear rubber bullets, who threaten
to shatter our diamond skulls.
We fear for our chickens , who will
soon hash on their fragile roosts.

 111(our fault)

so we slip our tongues -our worded lips
With padlock of fear , and rein of indifference
With plaster of non of my business-
They dumb  lazily around.

We grit our teeth , we swallow our hot breath,
Our stomach linens , suffer the whole burns.

we care not to validate the gospels
We neglect the malignant damage,
and shun the hooting ill cries
From our  unconvinced progenies.

so we became a puppet in many
of  your conjuring hands
dancing naked , to every dick and harry
in the market place of shame.

Of course,

When the field withers , we are the touted legends

When the roses sprout out proud

We are only fag’ends
When the golden notes are shared
We are the quarantine in the tin
When the land is scarce of gold dusts
We  must be the patriotic prospectors
Who must yield the national call
To enrich our nation lean treasury.

IV (stage less remonstrate)

I remember that morning
Gurgling go up and down
Masks of frail frown
Complemented with wailing placards
All around the town.

Until they show up cool again
Despite 3days of intense talks,
With packages of salads gummed
to their left hands
The ward leaders came
and they successfully hijacked the cries
Offering fluffy serviette
To swipe off our ocean of tears.

Then, like knife to a bread trunk
we were splitted apart
into rippled of conflicting tongues

”  my fellow congressmen, loose your belt
and please go back to work.

the lords are coming soon… x3″.

Is the song they reiterated , and it kept
on blaring its a maiden to our ears…

They melt our angst,
But only flew knew theirs went swollen
into icebergs.

At work , dawn and dusk
We work like locked lipped 18th century slaves
in the scorching sun of white lords sugar plantations.
In this fuming factories, we kept profusing bloody sweats
- a libation to appease the gods
To bless more,
Not us, (but our gods remember)
To cash load their purses more
we scoop ,mop cleaning smooth
Like the cleanser , for their poverty
inscription curses.

We combed wells, drilling hard for cash oil
Night ,morning and noon.
They squander ,salt away , ‘apas’ hoard away
the oil  revenue
We are the men of gaunch looks
producing the juicy fresh food
They are men of  heavy jowl with nothing
to brood

They selfishly guzzle our inheritance
We the victims ,suffer for these prodigals,
vagabonds thoughtless acts

They bite the cash , till the account  got sore red
We are the end with no meet, as long
Their meet is with no end.

They split the fought hard honey we have milked
we are the sufferers of this careless deed

They eat with indifferent dissipation
We suffer the resulting constipation…

    We shall rise again
  We are wise, not insane

Haven”t our grey headed men gone
To discuss raven black headed men future?
Haven”t epileptic pulses gone
To resuscitate free eloquent heart hopes?

Haven”t fading heart gone to strengthen our souls?

They have gone to melt our frozen dreams
with some cold breath

They have, yes they have gone!


But wait
 Lest you and I are fooled again
Lest we are blinded by hoax rays
Lest some foes, come with olive palms and gloves
of  friendship handshakes
Before we welcome the  devils visit, in angels facade
Before some thieves loot us in vehicles , of
philanthropist mirage
Before they demand for our empathy , with some
acting grimace

Lest we allow some lions prowl into our midst
in sheep skins, and dove heads
Lest they dave in dry loaves , to suction
All our scarce soup
And lest we let Jacob’s food buy our birthright
Forever ,and right away
Before the momentarily hunger,
Cave in for stomach infrastructure
 Before we acknowledge  the imminent
clarion call
Penned with stolen feathers
Dipped in selfish ink  written with
Ingrating smiling letters , beckon us
to take them out.
Before we are robbed by the idea of ‘kleptocracians’
Before our heads start connecting
The tricking rhythms of their glibly drums
Into tickling our ears for a dance again
Before the squeaky gongs and theatrical
gimmicks invite us for a show of shame

Shall we be wrong to query the
Sacred lords , whose cows have
devoured all our forbidden fruits
of their fate now?
Shall we not seek for fecundity , after
this long tiring fallow?
shall we be right , to query what
is wrong?
Or wrong to ask for the right?

Maybe we shall temper justice
with mercy on the scale of their
fawning perishable items
and blaring dance able jingles and tunes
Only if it shall be fair to elongate
This chain of servitude , beyond
the present clan of ours.

But shall we , must we dance a dance
a dance of slavery again?
Munch the fortunes of prosperity
with our mouth of covetousness?
Shall we stick to statue promises
on colourful postal evermore?
why would your dregs always foam,
but end up residue of their
elite drinks?

Tell me ,shall we , must we?
How long should we fall prey
to the inviting beauty of a cosmetic surgery?

we will deify some eunuchs gods
Castrated Lords… who cannot impregnate no dreams?
Could it be an effrontery if we
probe to know if they are the factoid
Lords or masking ones?

 If for once we let their true deeds , be the litmus test
And we the citizeneries, be the shrewd scientists
As we watch keenly the changing indicator
Show us the real colour
By then, am sure
You will all anonymously declare , who is
fit to rule us!

Making reading fun again