Old Man

If you know me before,
You go know sey I no nice
I no even send your papa
Enough to remember your name
As in how nah?
Who you be?

Life nah leave or stay
And I no go beg for anyone
My pride nah my gold
I go rather save am
than to use am trade
E make sense sey my
storehouse full.

If you know me before,
I no kind oh!
Why I go look your face you when you no be my kind
If you no get anything to give me
Wetin you still dey do for my front?
Abeg, comot for road!

If you know me before,
You for know say
As I dey like this now
Somebody don work
overtime for my head
The kind work wey even me
I no fit do for myself.
Nah this work make me
Throway my pride
So I fit restock with something huge – Love

Love nah the only thing
I fit think of now
Anytime I want save something,
Nah only love be my moni.
E don help me get sharp eyes
And e too strong to dey quarrel with am

See ehn, you fit no understand wetin I dey talk now
But I pray say the same person wey do free overtime for my head
Go do overtime for your own head too.

Ere
©2026

Ode to my father

As a father carries his son, all the way you went until you reached this place.
Deuteronomy 1:31

My father believes that children
Are God’s benevolence to a lineage
Treasures committed to their parents
So he lets himself shepherd them
Offering fortification & fortune

I’ve heard of fathers who bathe their children with curses
& then dry their future with a flaming tongue
But my father wakes up every morning
Breaks the dew of heaven on us
Greening us to greatness with his prayers—
Our shield against daily darts

Today, we are the celebrities he couldn’t become;
Giants the world applauds
But he, an unnamed hero who
Laid down his armour to watch us win
Oh, my father is such a jewel among other fathers!

Ayooluwa Imisi
(c) 2024

N.Y.S.C

When corruption becomes
The pest eating the plantation
Of our nation
And compromise is the only meal
Served as your last option
STAND OUT!

When your altar is shattered
Battered and scattered
And the only way to subscribe to their Data
Is to denounce the name
Of your Father or they use
Your head for a slaughter
STAND OUT!

Let your heart beat this
Let your mouth spit this
For a life without Christ
Is a life of stasis, Vices, Lysis
And Crisis

This is who we are
Nigerian youths serving Christ…..N.Y.S.C
We are pressed on every side
But not crushed
Perplex but not in despair
Persecuted but not forsaken

We are unbeatable, Unstoppable, Un-daunt-table, undefeatable
This is who we are
A city set on a hill
Marked with a seal
Love is our will
No matter the kill
Christ is the REAL DEAL

Don’t you ever forget this
THIS IS WHO WE ARE!

King Uwe
©2021

Nostalgia

She said I write but it is not poetic
I guess I just recognize a selling point
Point me to the past I’ll be back at it
That first day I saw Godswill

Mmm


I’m emotional I beg your pardon
The things that connect when you meet a God person
I can at least afford to pay attention

All of that bed dressing
But I am not done with the lesson
Cedars got on stage like “We are the best thing”
Masks on my wall, I forgot to call Kizi

We grew from one location
To going on tour and we’re just beginning
They tell me “Bro, one day you go blow”
I smile and bow a seed will die to grow

I could make an anthem for the kain ship
You guys make me feel so fancy
There are stories that I daren’t tell
Movies make my head swell
Eating cabbage like it’s fresh bread
Being Nigerian is a king thing
I just kill all the dread
Luck or is it grace that I’m mehd
if you don’t walk on water
You’ll be doing so soon
What you are is enough
When it’s time don’t you bloom?

Don’t you bloom?

The Nielquchi
© 2020

Who Am I?

I have sought a definition
A sentence that could give me full expression of who I actually am

Am I a girl?
Is my life best expressed in the gender
In the XX of my genotype
Or in the comely form of my phenotype?

Am I a youth?
The leader of tomorrow; the pillar of today,
Am I one of the millions of jolly fresh faced persons
Brewing with passion but lacking in knowledge,
Just hustling to make it?

Am I a Nigerian?
Do I get my identity from my southern roots
Trying to fit into the mold of societal stereotypes?

Am I a graduate?
Is that laminated certificate in my box my identity card
Such that I am quick to shove my titles in peoples faces
Using that as a basis for unhealthy comparison…
But deep down I know
I am not my profession and my profession is not me
So help me answer this question who am I?

Guys, it took a long time to realize who I was
To understand that I couldn’t find myself by looking inward
but looking outward
that I would only see my true reflection
when I look in His mirror
that my true life is wrapped in his death and glorious ascension
that my life is not about the external but the eternal

but that my real identity is in JESUS
not in gender or status or nationality or age or education or skill
so who am I?
I am a child of God, a joint heir with Christ
I am a spiritual, supernatural, extraordinary human being
Trust me,
I am not just a girl, I am not just a youth,
I am not just a Nigerian, I am not just a graduate, I am not just a poet…
I AM A CHILD OF GOD!

Damaris
© 2020

Requiem for the Disarmed Forces

I have always admired soldiers
Just like I have always ignored Valentine’s Day
But on the day, I make a statement.

Not because my silence isn’t sweetin me
Not because I am obligated to speak.

I have always admired soldiers,
as their sacrifices vary
from patriotism to sheer employment
from investment to raw adventure

I don’t just remember soldiers on a remembrance day,
especially because I am Igbo
a tribe that has forgiven genocide and discrimination.
I don’t just remember soldiers on a remembrance day,
especially because I am Nigerian
a country that has forgiven military dictatorships and coups.

I don’t just remember soldiers on a remembrance day,
especially because my friend Eric is a soldier,
a man that shares history, hopes and happiness with me.

I remember soldiers,
the fallen and the standing,
especially because guard-room is real,
and no reward is enough for the soldier;
Except for Freedom and the heat of battle.

From God is true freedom…
but when it comes to battle,
Arise, Oh compatriots…

The Niel
©2020

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