Skip to main content

REHAB






By Yakubu Emmanella

Everywhere is ravaged by the same plague - fire! Wild fire! Oh sorry! I mean rage. Rage with an incessant passion. The cities have been intruded, the walls broken and the gates burned to the ground. Our cities are now clothed with nakedness- the kind without appeal.Its desolation seems to be beyond recovery. What tragedy has our folly earned us?

 I see despair in the eyes of the very ones called to bless our land. I still breathe in the fragrance of peace amidst them but why do their deeds speak of a strange thing -rage?!
There is pain amidst love, after all there is none genuine without sacrifice but the fear I perceive in their hearts, I so dread. God! This is only as a result of the falsehood they gave themselves to: they believed only lies and upheld them. Oh lord, please don’t give them away to their ignorance. I have suffered rejection; I know the pangs it sponsors. Your head begins to breathe like your heart and when the fight gets real tough and you want to back off, just then you find out that the keys were swallowed by your own greed.

Greed: an enemy of the city. He plunders her inhabitants and takes away the spoil. He informs the rich of their lack and how tattered they look on their Agbada and suits.  His soup does not give that scent that reminds our belly of a coming satisfaction but rather a stench; the kind that speaks of death. What a shame their untamed appetite led them to the room where the only needed ingredient was their soul and hmm betrayal.

She wears exquisite linen of many colors, flattery, deceits, blah blah blah. Her accent is mixed; her vocabulary confuses but yet puts one in a state of pseudo -control. She allows you make the plan and sets a trap for you to stumble and fall. She talks about strength like she has no weakness, about pity like she knows its origin but when she’s finished with you, her last word is REVENGE!

Allow me skip this one. It has brought much hurt on our cities. Unfortunately, these forces and effects happen at the very heart of her dwellings. Our cities seem to be a market place, unplanned and dirty, full of insincere merchants and thieves. How sad the ones you bore do not know you. Their wings grew so strong and they flew over the walls. Now, you’ve been destroyed by your very own. But I know that savior’s shall arise from your heart. They will judge this perversion and return your honor.

Show me, teach me how to gather them together and I’ll guide your young ones back; your pride, the reflection of your strength and beauty. Tell me how to call them for they still remember your songs of love taught them at infancy. Please don’t give up on them yet, I haven’t. Though you bore them into royalty, among nobles and raised them in wealth, they set ambushes at lonely paths and rob the innocent but I will bring them back (home). I’ll remind them of the dignity they once knew.

I’ll show them the emptiness they try to feed and lead them to rest. You’ll call them by a name only you know and once more, they’ll glow.

DEDICATED TO: WADI BEN-HIRKI FOUNDATION

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

HER MAJESTY

By Ola Vincent Omotade There was a village named Gini, a town blessed with mineral resources and oil. For a long-time the town had been under the pressure and control of Gbaduze a strong courageous king that ruled with excess superiority and power. A very sinful nation, a people laden with iniquity, a seed of evildoers, cities where corruption reigned supreme, they forsake the word of the wise and were bent on doing evil, but at the later end Queen Marieke, a woman brought back glory to the land. There lived a king named Gbaduze, a long living wealthy king, dark shinning in complexion, a man of his own very word and power embedded due to influence of the Niger-areas in Okere-aje kingdom. However, when death came calling, he died and the king makers ordered that the Queen to ascend the throne of her late husband and invariably preside over the affairs of the community. On ascension, she rigorously studied the existing relationship between the three major tribes in Gini. Q...
1 comment
Read more

FEBRUARY 27

By Ola Vincent Omotade Aderonke will be my only poem that never ends, For a good woman is but a poem. A genuine poem that comes in blue moon. You are a jewel of purest gold, The smile that never grows old. You are the beauty of the sunset sky, The intricate twinkle of a happy star. You are the keeper of an unborn life, A champion, heroine, a candlelight . You are a budding shoot, evergreen, a colourful sweetness. Your laughter is like the whirlwind of the spirit, it  keeps resounding in the valleys and hills of life and motions. Encircling the hearts of men with magical notions. So now the night of January is past and the day of February is broken Today speaks of this calmness, this brightness,the one you brought. Today carries  messages of heavy words, Words that are pregnant with beauty for you. And with my golden mouth and pen, I wish to celebrate your existence. What joy of a fuller and freer life, have I got if onl...
2 comments
Read more

THE LOVE IN HIS EYES

 – By Hilanzok She breaks down in tears as she sees him. His eyes a shade of light brown surrounded by a shrub of lashes speaks volume of what he has experienced in his life. His face a texture of smooth avocado gleamed through the canvas-skin; coarse to touch, spectacular and perfect to the sight. She doesn’t know how to explain it, but she felt this tug in her heart, she knows this boy has experienced things the eyes would bleed if it sees, and the mouth would be reluctant to voice out. It is evident in the liquidity of his eyes, the expressionless look( like a 21st-century male Monalisa) they bore. His cheekbones chiseled and firm fitted like a glove to his trimmed face. He is beautiful, but suffering and despair loomed in his aura, he didn’t need to say it out, in fact, he didn’t need to say anything. She is satisfied just looking at his face, admiring and accessing the contours of his face. She feels the urge to lean forward and press her lips against his, she wants...
Post a Comment
Read more