Categories
Poetry

A Dance of Her Brave World

Daniel Igenewari and Joy Ibifuro
Some night she dances
with tears in her eyes
In her brave little world.
Some days she smiles
But its only a fickle light
In the dark of heart throbs.
The heart wants what it wants
Whatever that might be
Incessantly it longs and cries
Till her being is subdued
Last night she heard a voice in the walls;
What if its not of this world?
What if the things you want don’t exist here?
She assures herself once more at the break of dawn
She tells herself, “it’s the start of a new beginning.”
But then she wakes up from her slumber of a better life
And sadly we all know;
Hope is after all only a dream,
Isn’t it?
Artwork by: IyunOla Sanyaolu
With bruised knees she lifts herself
Once again dancing to the tune of the uncaring crowd
Hiding her agony in smiles
What a world she dwells in
where a tear drop of innocence is worth less than a piece of a filthy rag
How did it come to this
She scurries up and down the earth
But it won’t take her in;
No accommodation for a forbidden seed
So precious but yet forbidden
Her heart thickens with bitterness
With panting and heavy breathing
She speaks;
So soft that it could be called whispers
There is a dome that covers all
No passage of air
There are constrictions so far down there
Oh set her free from this mad hemisphere
Categories
Music

An African Giant

Hamid Ayodeji

A true legacy dies when it is about to birth a younger tribe, sprung from freedom seeking energy and spirits. As this is the time to be alive as a Nigerian and African, considering how African art is at its peak whilst being exported to the rest of the world for consumption once again, talking about ancient and modern art without looking at what Nigerian artists brought and are still bringing to the artistic world cannot hold much water.

Hence, taking a peek at the booming musical culture of the continent, it can be pointed out that Afro-beat has earned its place on the global stage, anchored by Nigerian artist such as, Fela Anikulapo Kuti whose era of Afro-beat sound spreading like wild fire globally, coupled with powerful sounds and lyrics showed the universe that Africa had a lot to teach and influence using art as the medium of expression.

Show casing a vibe that was not heard of or experienced yet as at that time; with his Instruments, dance, lifestyle, as well as passion he educated the world on the depth of which corruption had eaten its way down to the roots of the country and how the Armed forces harassed civilians who spoke up against the wrong doings of the government, at that time.

The phase of his physical assaults by the Armed Forces is in line with a cruel government that thinks not the social development and well being of its citizens which eventually led to a platoon of soldiers storming his Resident at Ojuelegba, (the first Kalakuta Republic) in order to brutalize the people they met.

This operation by the Nigerian Armed Forces that very day as far as history is concerned, recorded the death of Mrs Funmilayo Ransom Kuti, who leaped to the Heavens after she was thrown from the balcony of the building by soldiers.

“Zombie, oh, zombie, Zombie no go go unless you tell am to go, Zombie no go stop unless you tell am to stop. No brake, no jam, no sense,” he sang on his 1976 song titled, Zombie.

Funmilayo Ransom Kuti

The departure of Mrs Funmilayo Ransom Kuti from our world, during the 1978 military regime, at Felas’s Kalakuta Republic, took a part of him that could never be entirely replaced by any other feeling creating music and illuminating the world with his sound could ever offer.

Officially nobody was held accountable for this gruesome act. However, this did not stop the music god from searching for inner peace and clarity as shortly after, Fela was known to be affiliated with a Ghanaian sorcerer, Professor Hindu, who acted as his spiritual adviser.

According to his son, Femi Kuti, in Veal’s book, “Fela changed when Hindu came into his life. Everyone now got worried because Fela wouldn’t listen to anyone except for Hindu.

“My mother said I should come out of it because it was getting too diabolical and deceitful. But I told her ‘If I leave him now, it is possible he will get killed and we will lose him forever.’

I felt this because Hindu once told Fela that if he wore a special African bulletproof vest, they could shoot him and he wouldn’t die. To prove it, Hindu got a gun and put the jacket on a goat and fired six shots to show it really worked. Later, we found out he had used blanks. But my father thought this was wonderful and he wanted to put the jacket on himself. Luckily, his elder brother said “Let’s try it on another goat, just in case. So they took this double-barreled gun–and the goat died. And Fela cried and cried. Obviously, they were cheating him”

Fela Anikulapo kuti was not just any other musical genius; he always looked for perfection and justice in everything he was conscious of, which birth an evergreen culture that can never leave those it came in contact with.

 

Categories
Poetry

Your Hurt is Dust

Tobiloba Adeola

I heard its best not to regret what once made me smile
But that’s not all about you,

our love definitely made me beam like the sun in the day

And I always looked forward to a tomorrow with you,
with the evidence of joy in my heart

And an acknowledgement that you’d remind me of how amazing I am

Multiplied by the goosebumps you leave my body to cleave upon;
thinking about it now inspires me, which makes me feel worthy of better

Although, you are gone and that hurt sometimes,
maybe because my memory kept more records of our moments together

Especially the times we laughed at jokes and shared nice kisses as i just would never make myself believe I wasn’t enough, I’ve always felt like a super blessing to the world

Of Which was one of the huge factors that made our souls create such euphoric fire

Now it’s all being reduced to ashes and that’s alright

Goodbye to you till we meet again

But never for once think I’ll be broken forever, my tears have rolled down and dried up

My heart is healing because it’s got a lot of loving to give out

I’m a queen and I create a great path of strength for my followers

I won’t be one to prepare a seat for my past to mock me,
my future has got a big treasure kept and I’m headed to the top to own __

 

 

Categories
Poetry

Next Door Monsters

Daniel Igenewari

You are a mortar

And I will pound you to my will

Your body is perfect

A good laxative for hiatus.

 

Your body is mine

Forget your rights

Whichever ones your conceited mind thinks you have

The dowry I paid was heavy

Powerful enough to throw them out the window.

 

Lay still and take a beating woman

The sight of your bloody eyes

Are the best Viagra a patriarchal culture can buy.

‘’I am yours’’ say it after me

I need to taste the words on your lips

 

….and so I watched

Day and night. As a child.

Season after season as I grew.

What was I to do, let him kill her?

I have but one regret. I should have done it sooner

It’s all quiet now, as silent as his heartbeat

And mother can smile again.

 

If you are going through any form of domestic abuse, be it physical, verbal, emotional, please know that it is not your fault and there is no shame in seeking help. Domestic abuse is not new, it cuts across the educated and illiterates, it is in the churches and out there in social circles. He/she might have put in your head notions of how you will not find a better person, believe me, these are lies an abuser would tell because he/she is scared of losing you.

Take your power back today, set yourself free, you deserve better. You deserve the best. Leave that house today, it not a home. Many have lost their lives to domestic violence, don’t be another story we hear in the news.

You are beautiful. You are unique. Don’t let anyone feel he is doing you a favor by being in your life.

Below are some help lines, if you are not comfortable talking to someone, at least call one of these numbers. And remember you are as good as anyone in the world. Not one person is more important than you and love doesn’t punch you in the face, love is gentle and patient.

 

__________________________________________________________________________________

Call:

 

Helplines for domestic abuse – 08057542266, 0812678443

Helplines for Child abuse –080857542266, 08102678443

Ministry of Women Affairs -08085754226

Categories
Poetry

Love Struck

H.

Her lips were as red as the roses decorated on her white garment.

Struck by her beauty and scent I followed as she ran towards the sunset above the sea.

Each step I took was a moment closer to a young Garden, where Love and Peace gets its deserved credit.

Each smile and gaze at me was a detox freeing me from the wicked old witch’s spell.

Light or darkness I could still see and feel her face and touch, thus I knew in her garden my seeds shall flourish.

How ever, I was neutral until your ever burning sensation sunk into my senses thereby, creating an energy I want, which was as pure and powerful as light.

My Love, i have been captured by your firm hold over my body and mind, leaving me seeking nothing less than freedom from the moonlight up until the sunrise.