Familiar African Tales | Pressurized By Mirabelle Morah
I don’t know how I survived high school without a boyfriend but hey! I survived. One young man kept on pressurizing my life right from my first senior class down to my last. Even my very own best friend said some nasty things to me just because she wanted me to have a boyfriend. Trust me, I wasn’t the holy type but I guess I unconsciously set standards for myself. In my final year in high school, believe you me, the pressure got realer than real. Left, right, center, people made me feel so evil for refusing to date. In fact, my classmates would fix seminars for me and ask why I wasn’t dating the young man yet. Well people, I still didn’t date him. Whatever the case be, it’s always important to set standards for yourself and stand for what you believe in. Don’t follow the crowd. By Mirabelle…
IN THE SPEED OF LIGHT: FROM AGES TO AGES BY FELICIA OTOP
There comes the transcending energetic conceptualism of movement, taking the formless state into a life of destiny. Speaking for a generation yet to be born, releasing thoughts into words and words into matter and matter into solids. Appraising that which is unknown to become known. Basking common feelings into deep reasoning and corrugating the process of linear knowledge for future revelations. In her energetic twirl the splendour of her decorum majestically embossed the deepest of all her formation as she raised her in her and him in him; intertwining the equability of her in him and him in her. What a decipher !! Condominium of functions given to each owner but jointly functional to make all related in accordance to their similar interests. Raising the pillars of destination in the energy of speed to light up the truth that gives reality its meaning by drafting a tenure of ruler ship…
ONE THOUSAND APPOINTEES BY JESAM EKO
The sky is immense, but grows no grass The speeches are intense,but yields no fruits That’s what the oracle said to the obong To whom the great God gave the reins of people’s Paradise. God of the Efiks I stretch out my hands Give the reins of the land to me He appointed the Akpans the king of leaves and the Ominis it’s deputy He appointed the sea the King of waters and the lagoon it’s deputy. He invited the lion and fox to the last supper at obudu. He invited one thousand appointees and more… The harvested cocoyam must be shared equally he said, Double palava for dead body. The lion has eaten the cocoyam and now wants to eat the fox. I lack a stool in my jungle the lion insist.. I doff my hat and prostrate I must go now Let the new office suit them oh…
Preacher By Ajor James
You are the doomed Who announces the doom You are the holiest That hoards holiness You are the heaven Heading to hell You are the sick Who houses the sicks You are the want Who takes their wants You are the bait They are the prey Adupe people Singing Hosanna in the highest Your passionate intrepidity and temerity Renders them languid Your pernicious eyes Sees a dusky future Oh ignoramus pertinacious People Hear the preacher’s call Give to your Father in Heaven Stay hungry on earth Yes! Tomorrow knows itself Give him legs Give him your hands Keep your head And have your fates Give him your neck Never you shed a blood Build him a flat He stays in heaven Abraham, Jephthah gave him a child The preacher has spoken. By Ajor James Akwugiobe Ajor James Akwugiobe is a final year student of UNICAL in the department of English…
WEDNESDAY SERIES | THE SUICIDE NOTE 1 BY EDIKAN AKPANTE
LIZZY “Becca!” I called to my friend as I dashed into our one room apartment. “Becca, come take a look, I’ve finally been given admission.” I exclaimed, searching through my handbag excitedly. Becca was my roommate as well as a friend. She was one girl I envied so much, for her looks, brain, and financial base. She seemed to have it all. Unlike me, Becca was already in 200 level in the university and I was far older than she was. But I loved her much; she was such a nice, quiet and sweet girl. She decided to take me in when I was thrown out by my aunt for always coming home late. She couldn’t understand my excuses for doing two jobs just so that I could save up for my academics when I would finally be given admission. “Lordamercy!!! No!!!” I screamed at the sight before me. “No,…
Colours of Pain by Mazpa
Eyes of blazing blue Flames of fading fortune Reflection of dying dew- That fell from a twisted tribune. Lips of yelling yellow Voices of feminine fear Filling her lungs, yet it be hollow Longing for a touch of crisp care. Blood of boiling black Flowing through vessels weak Filling up unending cracks Today’s comfort, tomorrow’s bleak. Heart of restless red Burning ember in the liquid night Suffocating in the absence of shades shared With friends, in the presence of lost light. Rainbow – Colours of peaceful pain Rolling fear, stumbling dreams Hues of abject agony They dye my past, and paint my future. About Mazpa Mazpa Ekejiuba-Ejikem is a medical student, a leisure writer. He spends most of his time reading and writing and when in a good mood, talking. He loves trueness of reality, the existence of nature
Crack crack Boom By Nigerian Soldier | Bentem Josef
Crack crack Boom That was the sound that brought their doom The battle was at its peak Now, no one could afford to be weak Fires of big guns, bombs and its hellish heat Many will rather go six feet The battle field, deserted You’re alone with a thousand dead But it seems like you’re in a market place With every one’s eye giving you a chilling gaze “Where are these ones now?” We were together before they took their bow Dead here, alive there They watch from up above, o mortals that depend on air Soon it would be cut off And the soul shall be ripped off this fleshy stuff To join those that were late too early And you meet a reality realer than a Telly Then you ask, “was it worth the fight?” “I should have used my days doing right” Just like mummified cadavas We…
FAMILIAR AFRICAN TALES | MY FIRST TIME BY NTEN MPAMA
Nten is a teenage girl who loves putting her thoughts to paper. Writing is to her what food is to the body. She is a ferocious reader and an avid lover of poetry. She also loves to bake and eat what she bakes. Her faith is probably the most important part of her life. She lives in Calabar with her family. This is her story about THE FIRST DAY I CARRIED A 20-LITRE CONTAINER This happened a few years ago, I was 13 years old and in SS1. My neighbourhood was experiencing one of the frequent water cessations. So, I and two of my cousins decided to get water from a borehole a short distance away from the house. What happened in the course of our trip to the borehole could only happen in Nigeria, where people feel they have a right of opinion over you because they’ve seen you…
The Ode of The Magic Man – In The Face of Two Worlds | By Felicia Otop
He exists in the two worlds of his thoughts but in the confusion of her reality. He communicates in double insight and his secret of attraction is deceit. He knows he is a king in his delusions but of no value in her reality. She is his, because she was attracted by his delusions. His deep values, emotions and thoughts give him physical experiences and push his visions not from the point of sight but from the point of thought. He looks real but he is a farce, a lie that works like magic, very delusional, disappearing in a flash just when she is trying to understand. He pushes his visions through energy as he sits in idleness of aloneness in his thoughts, he attracts the most outstanding of the ‘she gender’. As his thoughts draw the strongest of his victim. He likes to stay lonely but never wants to…
NAMING A BOOK ALMOST GOT ME MAD BY ONYEKACHI ONUOHA
NAMING A BOOK ALMOST GOT ME MAD Naming is a very serious issue when it comes to the name of a child. I said a child because I assumed it should be so but what about naming a book? I assume I know better. I have given names to many of my books and the books of others as if I am a father and it is this scenario that makes me feel I understand the importance attached to name and naming of a child. I have tested the madness that is associated with naming a child. This feeling that the whole future of a child is predicated on the name (s)he bears. This nostalgia is like that experienced by long awaited expectation of a child. The parents look for names that embody their travails in life. Sometimes the name is a reply to mockery and their state in life.…
Familiar African Tales | Pained By Ngozi John
Iya Joke did not cry on the day her child died. She looked at the body and walked out of the room. She did not come back to the house after that. Last week, some children said they saw her at Eleyele Junction. She sat by the big church opposite the meat stall. Her wrapper loosely tied around her chest and her hair unkempt. They said she called every little girl Joke and even tried to pull a child from the mother’s hand once. The children who saw her yesterday said she sat in front of the church, still, like the figure of Jesus which stood beside her. Today I walked up to her. She did not recognise me. She used to shout, “Ore mi, my friend”, when she saw me on the road. But today, she did not talk. She looked at me as if I was not there.…
HAUNTED MELODIES BY NUEKI (GHANA)
It felt like dead roses, Until the corrosive spat of the wind Washed itself on the dark wall of delight. A heart, now turned into a turmoil of gaze. A calotype of pain Cleaving hard unto a mist of a radiant gloom. The bells rang, Pointing up to the sky Frozen by midday. Shadows of night pleaders wait Behind the windows of thought. Her lips, A foamy sovereignty of wisdom, A stream flowing through an Ancient infirmity A stare from the loops of discernment Just like an ocean of lust Dribbling from the cold cavities of her chest. Between always and never, the night turned into an amity of truth. With the heaven craving for a song. PRISCILLA NUEKI QUARSHIE. Bio Priscilla Nueki Quarshie is a promising Ghanaian poetess who is not only passionate about poetry and literature but also about beadworks. Her quill met the art and deeply fell…
Looking Forward by NGO Professional And Writer | Ivie Eke
My feet beat a determined path on the ground. I am walking towards my future this time around. There are many obstacles; challenges abound. So many things are happening, so many ups and downs. But I walk with my head high; insecurities are nowhere to be found. Nothing can stop me now, neither lions nor rabid hounds. I see a future lined with gold, or just Dollars and Pounds. I am going where I am supposed to be, in success I am bound. They try to call me back—I can hear the sounds. ‘You can’t catch me now!’ I shout aloud. The works of my hands will be fruitful; I will make my family proud. I take deliberate strides towards my future, like a wind-propelled cloud. ©Ivie M. Eke 2015 This poem first appeared on classicallyivy.com on December 14th, 2015. About Author Ivie is an NGO Professional and a Writer of…