Slavery

I spoke to Runs girl once,
She said her anger is her source
As she was forced to this life
By her Uncle who came like a thief in the Night and her virginity was the casualty
So the penalty is death for all those who now commit the crime of sleeping with her
She blames they, them
For the mayhem she cause their Marriages
‘I wouldn’t pay for damages when my case has been adjourn’
Everyone I told turn a blind eye to my hurt
Now my heart burns with hate
If you stare at me, your fate might be a night to that hell I have been put through
I and my crew will screw all of you till you forget your wives and call us Boo
She like many others are Nigerian avengers
Fighting the ghost of their abusers
And I too felt her pain
A slave to a past that had been stained,
But can be snow if she chooses to let his light glow
Even if life has given her a low blow as she wrestles with her past demons
She can tag him in
He will guarantee her the win
Then the will to talk of his saving grace with pride
Everywhere she goes, she sows seed of hope to girls like her who are still slaves to rippers of souls
Tell them the past matters but the future is what they want to see and behold

Victor Isoje
(c) 2018

Barren Mother

I have an empty well of a belly.
My womb has known nothing but dying blood all my living years.
I have thought of no one but myself,
Fed no one but myself,
Placed no one before myself,
How do I have a womb except it was made to bear another, and yet
I have no idea what it means to pour a part of myself into another.
“A breast feeding mother?”
That’s a foreign name to me.
“A bread winning father?”
Who dares call me?
I am my own hero,
My own salt,
My own light in a shady place,
Come with me and I’ll lead you into the darkness.
I’d snuff the life out of my light because I do not want to share it.
I’m an evil already happening,
A menace waiting to be uncovered.
My tactics are new everyday
Yet my mind is old.
I am a dirty, dirty soul with a clogged up heart and a rigid body.

This is why I have come before the Rock of Ages,
Before The fire that purifies without consuming to ashes.
My tears produce more salt now than I have ever thought to produce.
I do not know when I ever took lessons from the ocean
But my ill will like waves come crushing over me.
I am caught up in my own dirt web,
Spun in my own fear.
I have come to you as a barren womb in need for a child.
I was born to be mother, now may I know a child?
I have come as a fruitless tree in its season.
As hungry fire,
I’m desperate.
As a docile branch,
I submit.
I accept defeat.
Let your rains fall on this arid land again, Lord.
I admit nothing was ever my own;
As I am left with nothing now I am reminded where I come from.
Give me one child, Yahweh ‘tis All I ask.
Surprise the quick-to-conclude with Your quick-to-deliver.
Let them know when their calling-me-barren tongues call me mother,
Let them know from every side of the flipping coin earth,
That You make the Barren Mother.

Adaobi Chiemelu
(c) 2018

The Fire of Revolution

If you truly want a revolution
You must be willing to watch your life fade
From before your own vanishing eyes

If you crave for the heavens showered
With bright red flames and blinding white light
You must care to be consumed with it

The rebirth you long for
Isn’t held in familiar bosoms
Is never at home with soft couches, tamed roses and sweet homely dinners

The freedom that’ll last forever
Is an intense joy and a harrowing pain
Stabs of rejection, and lingering loving embraces

If you truly want a revolution
You must be willing to watch your life burn
And glow

If you want a revolution that lasts forever
How about a death that scorches us into unending life?
How about Christ, Revolution Eternal?

Ikenna Nwachukwu
© 2018

Darling

Darling,
You can let me see the whole you,
You can stand bare before me half dark, and still soar if you’ll just let me show you,

I know life has left you stripped of all the things you couldn’t have,
Swept you off your feet from heights you couldn’t dive,
Dared you with shocks you couldn’t nerve,
Will you let me be it’s one slave that wouldn’t serve?

I’ll defy my master and dare to die,
If you will let your hands fall by your sides,
Let not the darkness cause you lie,
Cos I’m all black and still dare to fly,

To our advantage let’s stir the light,
That years from now when we add to age,
We would look back in time a time at dusk,
When unreachable seemed the giant’s tusks,
In a moment of shame and leap at once
we shadowed the form that birthed us,
Darling.

UCtruth

© 2018

In deep slumber…

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Slowly went off the flames of the light
Casting shadows of a heart-breaking sight.
She cried in a broken desperation
because it seemed she and her inhabitants were left to die

In the ugly claws of rejection so she stared in fear
Doom seemed near
While in a deep slumber were God’s own tabernacles
Snoring aloud, head supported by feeble ankles.
In an alarming stillness, she thought them dead
Because all that blurred her vision was red

If only they knew
That her cities were ruined
Her buildings laid desolate, home crushed;

Cries of distress, a blasting tune
Her men in tortured labor, had begun to split up caves
Making spaces to dig up their own graves
If only they knew her enemy!

The man of guile had seized and plagued their streets
Leaving them with shuddering teeth that only grits
All that is left are weary souls grasping for breath
Earnestly longing for an easeful death
So with everyday becoming night
They are weary, white out of plight
Despite the surging wave of thick darkness
There lay no hope of light
Crazy!

She couldn’t understand why!
Were they not the saviors?

Who were supposed to build up the waste places?
The army meant to raise the foundation of many generations?
To repair the breach and restore streets for dwelling in as said the Lord
Through the mouth of prophet Isaiah?

For whom does she wait?
Achan or Zechariah?
Would they leave her in darkness and cold?
Their power and authority exchanged for insatiable vaults
Pleasures and filth the price to the devil they had sold?

Children of God indeed they are
She weeps at the hallowness of their claims
Because right from the beginning the scripture never said it so!

An unbearable shame even as my own tears comes afloat
I weep for a creation whose earnest expectation of manifestation
Is exchanged with devastation.