NO  LONGER  NUDE   

Our ancestors carved their names on values that define our race

Their sweat, toil and stress enshrined in monument so indelible

From the pot of wisdom, proverbs, life and times of the sage we fetch

Give meaning to our roots as preserved in the sacred encyclopaedia

Well equipped to end Penury, pestilence, trafficking, war and hostilities

We are never descendants of a confused tradition as purported

Galaxy of talents embroider the history of this gigantic race

Hospitality, communality, and ethics complement our vital ingredients

Contrasting yesterday, our children dream of toys, Cinderella and ice cream

Imitators of you wanna and I’m gonna subjecting their identity to perfidy

You are not zombies, say no to F and A words for decency beckons

Digital epoch obscures their vision and plants discord among clans

Where are those strangers, cynics and wet blankets?

We wage war against exploitation and overdependence?

Tell Njoroge in Kenya,  Tesfa in Ethiopia, Tunde in Lagos and Aisha in Egypt

Yvonne in Soweto that we don’t have different blood but tongue

Fantasies of greener grass on foreign soil taint our youth’s identity

Deep in our hearts lies the aroma of our irreplaceable delicacies

To summon her children and repossess her integrity

I am, you are, our children gather to commemorate this colour

This skin is durable, resistant to marginalisation and extinction

 Our women denounce irrational brawl and endorse genuine motherhood

There is a Continent, a souvenir of conventional values

Today and tomorrow this accolade is for your timeless resilience.

POETRY

OUR WORST ENEMY

A dozen gun salutes rattled                                                       

My stomach, a war zone

Am I a confirmed carrier of ammunition?

Or ballistic missiles?

Unbearable and tortuous

Conference interrupted

Couldn’t you show some respect

To a respected public figure

At least before his audience?

Questions fell on deaf ears

Missiles reassembled, battalion on red alert

Like a professional athlete preparing for Olympics

I made for the other  office.

Tratatata,Yolatatatata,pram,pram, pram,proooooom!

In my groaning and whimpering,

I cursed the roadside food vendor

A premier suspect in my present predicament

The building about to come down, did I care?

Contents of my stomach emptied

Glad  that the intestines did not leave their duty post

Oh Diarrhoea! Oh Diarrhoea! Don’t ever visit me.

Execution of dreams.

Can they?

Can you?

Can I?

Can We?

Yes, or No?

They can/cannot

You can/cannot

I can/cannot

We can/cannot

This choice defines success or failure.

Where do they stand?

Where do you stand?

Where do I stand?

Where do we stand?

POETRY

THORN IN OUR FLESH

The hearts that once cared have vanished

Loved ones kidnapped, silenced and isolated

Gallant men and brave women annihilated

Youths slaughtered in their prime and dreams left unfulfilled

Children brainwashed, recruited and indoctrinated

To betray and turn their swords against their very kindred

We swim in this weird ocean of Indelible anguish

To make us absolutely livid at the dawn of a new era

Ambassadors of callousness, brutality and mayhem in our midst

Heralds of carnage clad in masks and hood equipped for suicide undertaking

Showing no respect for the wombs that bore and breasts that suckled you

Decorated perpetrators of atrocities beyond your comprehension

How dare you snatch that priceless piece our damsels preserved for years?

Smacking many hearts with your stained hands and sour saliva

Hypnotized in the compasses of invisible sponsors

The trauma in us has defied all Analgesics in the world

Psychosis let loose swinging your instruments of human impiety

 kra,ka,ka,ka,ka,ka,kriiiii gbum, gbum, gbum rattle and rent the sky

Heaps of lifeless and dismembered victims are witnesses

Explosions here, inferno there and walls plummet

The toils and sweat of many years lay in ruin

Communities reduced to rubble and sacred places desecrated

Our land suddenly metamorphosed to graveyard

How can the dead rest in peace?

Victory is neither in the slitting of defenceless throats

Nor the gruesome termination of vulnerable scholars

Escapees and few who survived the massacre

Render endless dirges in reminiscence of their missing kith and kin

Heads bent over kneels in endless meditations and mourning

Their tears may never dry but heroism echoes in their hearts

United with our men and women in uniforms the hydra is in flight

Firm, hopeful and stronger than before we remain.

A REFLECTION ON AFRICA.

ON THE THRESHOLD OF REBIRTH

She stands out among others
Renowned for her treasures and wealth
Often misrepresented by descendants of colonial effigies
Her pride visible like a peacock to cow her detractors
Bringing history to limelight in the face of narcissism
That our forebears toiled and built their empire
We are neither fools  nor  perpetual puppets

Strangers come in disguise with monotonous agenda
Aids to the developing Countries  to save souls in distress
Click here, click there, images of unkempt Innocent children
The physically challenged with imaginary flies touring their nostrils
skirmishes of communal feuds and decrepitude structures
To validate their projects   before donors
We, mere victims of poor governance, greed and economic sabotage

Across the desert to the Sea of Mediterranean, night meets morning
Youths traverse the sea and defy death to tell horrific tales
Surrendering their fate and embracing the unknown
In foreign lands, survivors recount their perilous trips
Frustrated back home they opt to pay homage to the nameless
Tales of wars, unemployment, genocide, oppression and repression
Cheap recipes  for foreign media

Degrading jobs in exchange for peanuts you savour
Disillusionment, slavery revisited and prejudice extended
Made homeless, tagged security threats and public pests
Accused, arrested and Jailed for want of no substantial evidence
Injustice knocks, you stammer and thirst for what you left behind
Better life an illusion of yesterday’s dream before your weary eyes
Yes, futility in a foreign land where grasses are always greener.

To the lost, the peons and exiles in hostile environment
Our fatherland beckons you home
Illustrious sons and daughters embrace your mettle
The drums  itch, flutes and horns all polished to echo
Jambo,Bienvenue,Uraba,Akwuaba,Welcome, Ekaabo
Come let us fix this tainted image and rebuild our very  own
Africa! our dear Home like no other.

@Gabe O