THE TEACHERS PUBLISHED BY Trhymz
I bring the baby from the womb I prepare the body for the tomb I take away the sickness through prescription You all stay alive because of my decision I have been so benevolent to the society Why now should I be in parity? Who stands for you in court So you are not thrown in jail to rot Your rights, I defend Where there is wrong, I amend At all times I be there for you Yet my integrity like meat you chew. How do you go to your place of work Do you ride or do you walk I reduce the death rate By making your roads smooth and straight I make you move over rivers without boats nor canoes How now should my doings not be good news. All of it, I taught you all Aside, teaching you how to pave your downfall Searching for the bigger…
October 1 Special Recipe | The Lagos Bus Stop by Augustus Bill
“Mile 2! Oshodi!” Voices of drained hustlers filtered the air, as each dressed like the streets they represent paced about snatching passengers. There was no dull moment here, this was Ojota, and you better decide early on which bus to enter before two conductors dragged your luggage like a piece of meat served to two hungry beggars. “Bros, Oshodi?” One was already breathing down my neck, the Lagos sun was no longer bathing him, he was swimming in the heat; sweating profusely like a man who just had a hot quickie. Scars were like signposts on his cheek, each of different size pointing to different angles, and his skin colour already bleached black by the Sun. Without waiting for an answer, he had already dashed out to snatch the luggage of a man approaching the bus stop, that’s what they do. They assume you are going their route and without…
Dear Dove by Veralyn Ugian
Dear Dove, Everything hurts this night, from the hot steam from my old cooking stove to the cold rainy night and lonely street, preventing me from going out to watch the stars and feel closer to your abode and finally to the fact that am not really his love after all, another is, this hurts my heart so much. Am not really sure my hunch is right this time, but trust me my hunches are always right, but why do I still feel I need another confirmation after his friend confirmed it also, perhaps am waiting for that kind of one, wherein I will be in a white garment and drown in water. Am so pensive this night and am really sorry this not how our letters should go. My friends have deserted me and my eyes can’t pull together in soundless sleep, cause am deep in worry, Then I…
Sad by Julius Deh
On that fateful day, the rain came down in torrents, so much that one would think that the angel kept watching over the tap in heaven had slept off. Wale stood in the middle of the deserted road leading to Lewis Street, contemplating whether or not to continue his journey. His shirt was weather-beaten and he was soaked to the skin. Here he was an outcast in his own country when he was meant to be in the comfort of his home with his wife and kids but no, Wale could not bear to look at his wife and inform her of the loss of his job. How was he going to explain to his kids that they could no longer eat what they liked? How was he going to settle his bills? All these questions and more flooded his mind with each trying to gain superiority. Wale quickly remembered…
THE CHOICE by Prince Ekanem
My desires made me callous. Their bare bodies I long to see. Like a thirsty athlete Desires water, my cravings for Porn knew no bounds. No fear of God, no thoughts of repercussions. To satisfy my urge my heart desires. Hunger pangs can’t describe the urge. Think twice my friend a calm voice speaks. That could be your mother That could be your sister. What is good for the Goose, is good for the Gander. Some are exploited, some have no hope. See them in this light, the Father loves us all. It quickly dawned on me how selfish I have been. God’s fear I need, his light I seek. Make the right Choice, whenever the urge comes. The choice you make will make your day. By Ekanem About Ekanem Ekanem, according to Mirabelle, is an awesome, amazing, hardworking and illustrious historian with the heart of a diplomat. He’s a…
Dear My City by Ekene
Dear my city, Stories were once told of How diamonds grew on your soil Of how liaison was your anthem Of how attention was your thing of beauty But your grace is burned down in the scorners’ heat There is screaming found in your country seat Your agony, torment and misery are placed on repeat Across the lawn, lies the pawn Tossed across, around and away Placed on a foundation of death Your curse lies in the ruins of blood Where your nutrients are mixed with its cud At every intersection Your taxis of sorrow Strip pedestrians of hope Filling those thirsty souls with puddle water My city, once on the concrete of gold Now thy glory lies in the desolation of waste. By Ekene Ngoka Follow on Instagram @craxymikey
IN THE EYES OF A HOMELESS CHILD
There is a pain in the heart, Left with grudge and misery Of a lonesome existence admit the uncertainty, What lies beneath the hundred hopes? Feels like a long endless rope, To live with warmth, Of yearning of a mother’s touch With a father’s shield Look through his crying heart, In the eyes of a homeless child. He plays in unsure path, Of the lonely grounds The innocent stares to swing and slides, The tears riding the merry-go-round Moving around the further round, Disheartened and clueless, What lies behind the lost, Of a mother’s heart And a father’s touch, Look deeply to his breaking heart In the eyes of a homeless child. He dwells in roofless poverty Around the dirty-noisy crowded open home He sleeps in the silence of cold darkness And wakes up with the earsplitting echoes around, What is waiting on the other side? Without embrace during his…
It’s All Grey
It’s all grey The sage tells of a presage Full of thoughts, talks and all Indicating the bane on the wall Disguised in beauty With a sketch of cruelty With a flaw of clarity An evidence of incongruity It’s all grey Like the ancient tale Of an enchanted tail Buried in horrors mail What I mean Is what you need The beauty of a dying corpse By Ekene Michael Ngoka Follow on Instagram @craxymikey
This Is Nothing By Oshioke Asada
The gallery opened and so many things were in sight; there was science, there was art, there was nature and then there was nothing. Nothing was the prevalent theme, straight from one opening of one gallery. The other things seen there were distractions maybe, or were they real? The question had a loud echo but a faint whisper of a reply. Nah, it wasn’t a reply after all. It was nothing. The feeling of an emptiness accompanied the feeling of nothing. The two were the same thing but a bittersweet feeling of everything one could possibly do with this blank space, or emptiness or nothing. The realization… By Oshioke Raymond Asada About Oshioke Oshioke is a young dreamer. A final year student of Mass Communication at Afebabalola University. This poem of his is exceptional. It brings you into the mind of someone who’s in a state of nothingness (if I’m…
Ekanem’s Funny Secondary School Memories
It was November 2010 in Christian High school Calabar. I was in ss3 planning to write my WASSCE which most people call WAEC. I was an Art student whose love for government and history knew no bounds. I hate saying this but I must say it. I NEVER LIKED MATHEMATICS. My school was known for its prowess in the Cowbell sponsored Mathematics Olympic competition. The B class which I belonged to never had time for such events. Though I never liked mathematics, I still knew some basics. Factorization, simplification and Pythagoras theorem( is it even theory) were the ones I could handle myself. Our timetable in ss3 allocated 3 periods to mathematics on Mondays. Two in the morning and one during Prep in the afternoon. We had mathematics again on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. Every Monday morning after devotion, in a bid to escape from Mr Ben and his Maths,…
Imperfect Beauty by Rebel writer and Hybrid Optimist | Seph Jae
As a child, I never really liked prince charming and his perfect love stories, they always seemed sort of flimsy and too easy for me. The perfect prince meets the perfect damsel and she falls for him immediately. He then saves her from distress and they live happily ever after. Stories like that always rubbed little me in the wrong way and made me want to roll my eyeballs till they fell out. I preferred stories about the misfits and weirdos, the ugly duckling, puss in boots, hunchback of notre dam; these stories grasped my attention, no matter how many times I’d heard them. When I became a teenager, I started to understand why I felt that way. The real world is nothing like the perfect princess world, except in terms of distress; even then, the actual distress is a lot more distressing and no prince would sweep in to…
When I Was Little by MD/CEO of Mede Signatures | Elizabeth Ita
When I was little, I loved to play. My neighbour had these little wild wiener dogs that were always chained. But one day, to my chagrin, I heard RUFFRUFFRUFFRUFFRUFF. It didn’t sound like it was coming from afar off. I looked and saw a fat brown wiener dog making a dash at me nipping at my heels. Instead of facing the little turd, I got scared and took off sprinting back into my house. The dang thing came out of nowhere & completely startled me. Then the random sprint sent me into a wheezing fit as I tried to slow my breathing. Eventually, I found my pace again but it took a while before I’d go out comfortably without searching every nook and cranny to make sure there was no dog lurking nearby. Even today, I’m still scared of dogs but it got me thinking; just when we are getting…
SHORT STORY | HUNGER IN HEAVEN by | Onyekachi Onuoha
HUNGER IN HEAVEN They sat in ethnic lines with hearts filled with great confusion. In their decisions, though it differs the various choices of the majority pulled down the rain amidst cloud. Silence had settled the cloud and rain fell in their heart. Their homes were left in a tyranny of hunger and starvation. Some of their puppies suddenly became thieves and the honest ones were desperate for survival that honesty became so strange to them for it was no longer marketable in the habitats in which they reside. They sat in their habitats without strength to dance as it were of yesterday after the illusion. Cow, a man very keen in the honesty of his brother remembered what happened in their country called Crook. He could not withstand the hunger that complicated his thought. So he called his brother, “Goat,” as he stood up from where he sat. “I…