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SELORM DEKU Mar 2016
Like a lioness, you fought your house to keep
And swift as deer, you ran ahead of time
Fearing neither the Western rifles nor barriers of the African culture
Setting your eyes on victory, you left behind the cooking role
Refusing to be betrayed by coward men leaders
Angered by colonial disrespect and maltreatment,
Your love for Asanteland and pride was greater than gender
The brave feminist of Africa, whose fights preceded Beijing
Yaa Asantewaa,  the shoes you left behind are too big to fill
But like you, we'd dare, our nation to defend
And our people we'd love enough to die for.
Yaa Asantewaa, like you we will step to fight, though without guns
Our brains, hearts and skills the point would prove, that we're descendants of thine
Gone with your body but in us, your nature lives on
We'd fight beyond Seychelles and return our land to rule.
A PLAY


BY



ALEXANDER   K   OPICHO









THE CASTE
1. Chenje – Old man, father of Namugugu
2. Namugugu – Son of Chenje
3. Nanyuli – daughter of Lusaaka
4. Lusaaka – Old man, father of Nanyuli
5. Kulecho – wife of Lusaaka
6. Kuloba – wife of Chenje
7. Paulina – Old woman, neighbour to Chenje.
8. Child I, II and III – Nanyuli’s children
9. Policeman I, II and III
10. Mourners
11. Wangwe – a widowed village pastor

















ACTING HISTORY
This play was acted two times, on 25th and 26th December 2004 at Bokoli Roman Catholic Church, in Bokoli sub- location of Bungoma County in the western province of Kenya. The persons who acted and their respective roles are as below;

Wenani Kilong –stage director
Alexander k Opicho – Namugugu
Judith Sipapali Mutivoko- Nanyuli
Saul Sampaza Mazika Khayongo- Wangwe
Paul Lenin Maondo- Lusaaka
Peter Wajilontelela-  Chenje
Agnes Injila -  Kulecho
Beverline Kilobi- Paulina
Milka Molola Kitayi- Kuloba
Then mourners, children and police men changed roles often. This play was successfully stage performed and stunned the community audience to the helm.













PLOT
Language use in this play is not based on Standard English grammar, but is flexed to mirror social behaviour and actual life as well as assumptions of the people of Bokoli village in Bungoma district now Bungoma County in Western province of Kenya.

























ACT ONE
Scene One

This scene is set in Bokoli village of Western Kenya. In Chenje’s peasant hut, the mood is sombre. Chenje is busy thrashing lice from his old long trouser Kuloba, sitting on a short stool looking on.

Chenje: (thrashing a louse) these things are stubborn! The lice. You **** all of them today, and then tomorrow they are all-over. I hate them.
Kuloba: (sending out a cloud of smoke through her tobacco laden pipe). Nowadays I am tired. I have left them to do to me whatever they want (coughs) I killed them they were all over in my skirt.
Chenje: (looking straight at Kuloba) Do you know that they are significant?
Kuloba: What do they signify?
Chenje: Death
Kuloba: Now, who will die in this home? I have only one son. Let them stop their menace.
Chenje: I remember in 1968, two months that preceded my father’s death, they were all over. The lice were in every of my piece of clothes. Even the hat, handkerchief. I tell you what not!
Kuloba: (nodding), Yaa! I remember it very well my mzee, I had been married for about two years by then.
Chenje: Was it two years?
Kuloba: (assuringly) yes, (spots a cockroach on the floor goes at it and crushes it with her finger, then coughs with heavy sound) we had stayed together in a marriage for two years. That was when people had began back-biting me that I was barren. We did not have a child. We even also had the jiggers. I can still remember.
Chenje: Exactly (crashes a louse with his finger) we also had jiggers on our feet.
Kuloba: The jiggers are very troublesome. Even more than the lice and weevils.  
Chenje: But, the lice and jiggers, whenever they infest one’s home, they usually signify impending death of a family member.
Kuloba: Let them fail in Christ’s name. Because no one is ripe for death in this home. I have lost my five children. I only have one child. My son Namugugu – death let it fail. My son has to grow and have a family also like children of other people in this village. Let whoever that is practicing evil machinations against my family, my only child fail.
Chenje: (putting on the long-trouser from which he had been crushing lice) let others remain; I will **** them another time.
Kuloba: You will never finish them (giggles)
Chenje: You have reminded me, where is Namugugu today? I have not seen him.
Kuloba: He was here some while ago.
Chenje: (spitting out through an open window) He has become of an age. He is supposed to get married so that he can bear grand children for me. Had I the grand children they could even assist me to **** lice from my clothes. (Enters Namugugu) Come in boy, I want to talk to you.
Kuloba: (jokingly) you better give someone food, or anything to fill the stomach before you engages him in a talk.
Namugugu: (looks, at both Chenje and Kuloba, searchingly then goes for a chair next to him)
Mama! I am very hungry if you talk of feeding me, I really get thrilled (sits at a fold-chair, it breaks sending him down in a sprawl).
Kuloba: (exclaims) wooo! Sorry my son. This chair wants to **** (helps him up)
Namugugu: (waving his bleeding hand as he gets up) it has injured my hand. Too bad!
Chenje: (looking on) Sorry! Dress your finger with a piece of old clothes, to stop that blood oozing out.
Namugugu: (writhing in pain) No it was not a deep cut. It will soon stop bleeding even without a piece of rag.
Kuloba: (to Namugugu) let it be so. (Stands) let me go to my sweet potato field. There are some vivies, I have not harvested, I can get there some roots for our lunch (exits)
Chenje: (to Namugugu) my son even if you have injured your finger, but that will not prevent me from telling you what I am supposed to.
Namugugu: (with attention) yes.
Chenje: (pointing) sit to this other chair, it is safer than that one of yours.
Namugugu: (changing the chair) Thank you.
Chenje: You are now a big person. You are no longer an infant. I want you to come up with your own home. Look for a girl to marry. Don’t wait to grow more than here. The two years you have been in Nairobi, were really wasted. You could have been married, may you would now be having my two grand sons as per today.
Namugugu: Father I don’t refuse. But how can I marry and start up a family in a situation of extreme poverty? Do you want me to start a family with even nothing to eat?
Chenje: My son, you will be safer when you are a married beggar than a wife- less rich-man. No one is more exposed as a man without a wife.
Namugugu: (looking down) father it is true but not realistic.
Chenje: How?
Namugugu: All women tend to flock after a rich man.
Chenje: (laughs) my son, may be you don’t know. Let me tell you. One time you will remember, maybe I will be already dead by then. Look here, all riches flock after married men, all powers of darkness flock after married men and even all poverty flock after married. So, it is just a matter of living your life.
(Curtains)
SCENE TWO

Around Chenje’s hut, Kuloba and Namugugu are inside the hut; Chenje is out under the eaves. He is dropping at them.
Namugugu: Mama! Papa wants to drive wind of sadness permanently into my sail of life. He is always pressurizing me to get married at such a time when I totally have nothing. No food, no house no everything. Mama let me actually ask you; is it possible to get married in such a situation?
Kuloba: (Looking out if there is any one, but did not spot the eaves-dropping Chenje).
Forget. Marriage is not a Whiff of aroma. My son, try marriage in poverty and you will see.
Namugugu: (Emotionally) Now, if Papa knows that I will not have a happy married life, in such a situation, where I don’t have anything to support myself; then why is he singing for my marriage?
Kuloba: (gesticulating) He wants to mess you up the way he messed me up. He married me into his poverty. I have wasted away a whole of my life in his poverty. I regret. You! (Pointing) my son, never make a mistake of neither repeating nor replicating poverty of this home into your future through blind marriage.
Namugugu: (Approvingly) yes Mama, I get you.

Kuloba: (Assertively) moreover, you are the only offspring of my womb             (touching her stomach) I have never eaten anything from you. You have never bought me anything even a headscarf alone. Now, if you start with a wife will I ever benefit anything from you?
Namugugu: (looking agog) indeed Mama.
Kuloba: (commandingly) don’t marry! Women are very many. You can marry at any age, any time or even any place. But it is very good to remember child-price paid by your mother in bringing you up. As a man my son, you have to put it before all other things in your life.
Namugugu: (in an affirmative feat) yes Mama.
Kuloba: It is not easy to bring up a child up to an age when in poverty. As a mother you really suffer. I’ve suffered indeed to bring you up. Your father has never been able to put food on the table. It has been my burden through out. So my son, pleased before you go for women remember that!
Namugugu: Yes Mama, I will.
(Enters Chenje)
Chenje: (to Kuloba) you old wizard headed woman! Why do you want to put    my home to a full stop?
Kuloba: (shy) why? You mean you were not away? (Goes out behaving shyly)

Chenje: (in anger to Namugugu) you must become a man! Why do you give your ears to such toxic conversations? Your mother is wrong. Whatever she has told you today is pure lies. It is her laziness that made her poor. She is very wrong to festoon me in any blame…. I want you to think excellently as a man now. Avoid her tricky influence and get married. I have told you finally and I will never repeat telling you again.

Namugugu: (in a feat of shyness) But Papa, you are just exploding for no good reason, Mama has told me nothing bad……………………
Chenje: (Awfully) shut up! You old ox. Remove your ears from poisonous mouths of old women!
(Enters Nanyuli with an old green paper bag in her hand. Its contents were bulging).
Nanyuli: (knocking) Hodii! Hodii!
Chenje: (calmly) come in my daughter! Come in.
Nanyuli: (entering) thank you.
Chenje: (to Namugugu) give the chair to our visitor.
Namugugu: (shyly, paving Nanyuli to sit) Karibu, have a sit please.
Nanyuli: (swinging girlishly) I will not sit me I am in a hurry.
Chenje: (to Nanyuli) just sit for a little moment my daughter. Kindly sit.
Nanyuli: (sitting, putting a paper-bag on her laps) where is the grandmother who is usually in this house?
Chenje: Who?
Nanyuli: Kuloba, the old grandmother.
Namugugu: She has just briefly gone out.
Chenje: (to Nanyuli) she has gone to the potato field and Cassava field to look for some roots for our lunch.
Nanyuli: Hmm. She will get.
Chenje: Yes, it is also our prayer. Because we’re very hungry.
Nanyuli: I am sure she will get.
Chenje: (to Nanyuli) excuse me my daughter; tell me who your father is?
Nanyuli: (shyly) you mean you don’t know me? And me I know you.
Chenje: Yes I don’t know you. Also my eyes have grown old, unless you remind
me, I may not easily know you.
Nanyuli: I am Lusaaka’s daughter
Chenje: Eh! Which Lusaka? The one with a brown wife? I don’t know… her name is Kulecho?
Nanyuli: Yes
Chenje: That brown old-mother is your mother?
Nanyuli: Yes, she is my mother. I am her first – born.
Chenje: Ooh! This is good (goes forward to greet her) shake my fore-limb my
daughter.

Nanyuli: (shaking Chenje’s hand) Thank you.
Chenje: I don’t know if your father has ever told you. I was circumcised the same year with your grand-gather. In fact we were cut by the same knife. I mean we shared the same circumciser.
Nanyuli: No, he has not yet. You know he is always at school. He never stays at home.
Chenje: That is true. I know him, he teaches at our mission primary school at Bokoli market.
Nanyuli: Yes.
Chenje: What is your name my daughter?
Nanyuli: My name is Loisy Nanyuli Lusaaka.
Chenje: Very good. They are pretty names. Loisy is a Catholic baptismal name, Nanyuli is our Bukusu tribal name meaning wife of an iron-smith and Lusaaka is your father’s name.
Nanyuli: (laughs) But I am not a Catholic. We used to go to Catholic Church upto last year December. But we are now born again, saved children of God. Fellowshipping with the Church of Holy Mountain of Jesus christ. It is at Bokoli market.
Chenje: Good, my daughter, in fact when I will happen to meet with your father, or even your mother the brown lady, I will comment them for having brought you up under the arm of God.
Nanyuli: Thank you; or even you can as well come to our home one day.
Chenje: (laughs) actually, I will come.
Nanyuli: Now, I want to go
Chenje: But you have not stayed for long. Let us talk a little more my daughter.
Nanyuli: No, I will not. I had just brought some tea leaves for Kuloba the old grandmother.
Chenje: Ooh! Who gave you the tea leaves?
Nanyuli: I do hawk tea leaves door to door. I met her last time and she requested me to bring her some. So I want to give them to you (pointing at Namugugu) so that you can give them to her when she comes.
Namugugu: No problem. I will.
Nanyuli: (takes out a tumbler from the paper bag, fills the tumbler twice, pours the tea leaves  into an old piece of  newspaper, folds and gives  it to Namugugu) you will give them to grandmother, Kuloba.
Namugugu: (taking) thank you.
Chenje: My daughter, how much is a tumbler full of tea leaves, I mean when it is full?
Nanyuli: Ten shillings of Kenya
Chenje: My daughter, your price is good. Not like others.
Nanyuli: Thank you.
Namugugu: (To Nanyuli) What about money, she gave you already?
Nanyuli: No, but tell her that any day I may come for it.
Namugugu: Ok, I will not forget to tell her
Nanyuli: I am thankful. Let me go, we shall meet another day.
Chenje: Yes my daughter, pass my regards to your father.
Nanyuli: Yes I will (goes out)
Chenje: (Biting his finger) I wish I was a boy. Such a good woman would never slip through my fingers.
Chenje: But father she is already a tea leaves vendor!
(CURTAINS)


SCENE THREE
Nanyuli and Kulecho in a common room Nanyuli and Kulecho are standing at the table, Nanyuli is often suspecting a blow from Kulecho, counting coins from sale of tea leaves; Lusaaka is sited at couch taking a coffee from a ceramic red kettle.


Kulecho: (to Nanyuli) these monies are not balancing with your stock. It is like you have sold more tea leaves but you have less money. This is only seventy five shillings. When it is supposed to be one hundred and fifty. Because you sold fifteen tumblers you are only left with five tumblers.
Nanyuli: (Fidgeting) this is the whole money I have, everything I collected from sales is here.
Kulecho: (heatedly) be serious, you stupid woman! How can you sell everything and am not seeing any money?
Nanyuli: Mama, this is the whole money I have, I have not taken your money anywhere.
Kulecho: You have not taken the money anywhere! Then where is it? Do you know that I am going to slap you!
Nanyuli: (shaking) forgive me Mama
Kulecho: Then speak the truth before you are forgiven. Where is the money you collected from tea leaves sales?
Nanyuli: (in a feat of shyness) some I bought a short trouser for my child.
Kulecho: (very violent) after whose permission? You old cow, after whose permission (slaps Nanyuli with her whole mighty) Talk out!
Nanyuli: (Sobbingly) forgive me mother, I thought you would understand. That is why I bought a trouser for my son with your money!
Lusaaka: (shouting a cup of coffee in his hand, standing charged) teach her a lesson, slap her again!
Kulecho (slaps, Nanyuli continuously, some times ******* her cheeks, as Nanyuli wails) Give me my money! Give me my money! Give me my money! Give me my money! You lousy, irresponsible Con-woman (clicks)
Lusaaka: Are you tired, kick the *** out of that woman (inveighs a slap towards Nanyuli) I can slap you!
Nanyuli: (kneeling, bowedly, carrying up her hands) forgive me father, I will never repeat that mistake again (sobs)
Lusaaka: An in-corrigible, ****!
Kulecho: (to Nanyuli) You! Useless heap of human flesh. I very much regret to have sired a sell-out of your type. It is very painful for you to be a first offspring of my womb.
I curse my womb because of you. You have ever betrayed me. I took you to school you were never thankful, instead you became pregnant. You were fertilized in the bush by peasant boys.
You have given birth to three childlings, from three different fathers! You do it in my home. What a shame! Your father is a teacher, how have you made him a laughing stock among his colleagues, teachers? I have become sympathetic to you by putting you into business. I have given you tea leaves to sell. A very noble occupation for a wretch like you. You only go out sell tea leaves and put the money in your wolfish stomach. Nanyuli! Why do you always act like this?
Nanyuli: (sobbing) Forgive me mother. Some tea leaves I sold on credit. I will come with the money today?
Kulecho: You sold on credit?
Nanyuli: Yes
Kul
this is a manuscript of a play, please guys help me get any publisher who can do publishing of this play
i  will appreciate. thanks
MOUMITA SARKAR Mar 2016
Tuesday
7:57 pm
15/3/2016

Woh jaa chuka hai…
Laakh koshish kar lunn,
Woh na rukha…
Woh  nahi rukega.. aab kabhi
Kitna bhi usse yaad kar lunn..
Woh jaa chukka hai..!

Woh na aab kabhi ageyega
Rutha jo hai mujhse bahut,
Shayed nafrat bhi aab,
pahele se zaida karne laga hai…
woh jaa chukka hai…!

Haan maine koshish ki hai ussko,
Bahut bhulane ki… par sab bhul jaati ***,
Shivayen uss ke…
2 saal ** gayen inn baton ko yaad kar ke,
Ki kabhi na kabhi aa hi jayegaa woh!

Woh yaadein jo chah kar bhi,
Kabhi bhulne hi nahi diya.
Jaane kya pata… ye pyaar hi tha
Yaa fhir ekh sapnaa…
Woh jaa chukka hai!
#some #memories cant forgettable :)
Janvi shukla Feb 2015
Meri bebasi ka bayaan hai
bas chal raha na iss ghadi
Meri bebasi ka bayaan hai
bas chal raha na iss ghadi

Ras hasrat ka nichod doon
Kas baahon mein aa tod doon
Chaahoon kya jaanu naa
Chheen loon chhod doon
Iss lamhe kya kar jaaun
Iss lamhe kya kar jaaun..
Iss lamhe kya kar doon jo mujhe chain mile aaraam mile
Aur **.. Aur **
Saans ka shor ** aanch bhi aur badhe
Aur **.. Aur **
Saans ka shor ** taap bhi aur chadhe
Aur **.. Aur **
Aur mile hum aur bhi jal jaaye

Tujhe pehli baar main milta hoon har dafaa
Meri bebasi ka bayaan hai

Tujhe chheen loon ya chhod doon
Maang loon yaa mod doon
Iss lamhe kya kar jaaun
Iss lamhe kya kar doon
Jo mujhe chain mile aaram mile

Aur **.. Aur **
Saans ka shor ** aanch bhi aur badhe
Aur **.. Aur **
Saans ka shor ** taap bhi aur chadhe
Aur **.. Aur **
Aur mile hum aur bhi jal jaayein

le le le........
Jiya jiya...
Piya piya...
ye hey....

Main hasrat mein ek uljhi dor huaa
Suljha de ** **.....
Main dastak hoon
Tu bandh kiwaado sa
Khul ja re **
O bebasi mann mein basi
Aa Jeete jeete jee le sapna

Aur **.. aur **
Saans ka shor ** aanch ki aur badhe
Aur **.. aur **
Saans ka shor ** taap ki aur chadhe
Aur **.. aur **
Aur mile hum aur bhi jal jaaye

Ruke se naa ruke
Ye naa thake
Aandhi si jo chale inn saanso ki
Pata bhi naa chale kahaan pe kya jale
Hai darr se, tann-mann ki, siharan se
Hasrat ki, sulgan se
Bhadke aur shola shola
Jale bujhe dhuaan dhuaan
O dhuaan dhuaan
Lage mujhe dhuaan dhuaan o

Meri bebasi ka bayaan hai
Meri bebasi ka bayaan hai
Meri bebasi ka bayaan hai
Listen! Can you hear?
Behold! Can you see?
Feel! Can you experience
The change from a female
To a fruitful African mother?

Oh yes, she took the concoction
This morning to prove her innocence,
Yes, she had to go through this
Ordeal to satisfy her aggressive head,
But this passionate love was
According the will of Tweaduampon,

Hmm, the moon has appeared
Nine times over the thirsty land
Of Africa since morning,
Can you behold Asaase Yaa
And Isis watching with their
Eyes of favor and fertility?
For Osiris, the Beautiful Being, can even
Testify the May-rain matching
Endlessly over the wings of Timbuktu,

Ah look! The noon is fast approaching
With excess wailing and fear,
For the Military Hospital
Is burning and bleeding with
The fire of eternal expectations,
Indeed, with success comes greed,
And the gods of blacks is not to ****,

Push daughter, push!
Push the pain of this Tuesday joy
Out of your vulnerable soul,
For the Marshall bells are still
Ringing to receive this divine offer,
Hear the sweet voice of the dawn
Energizing the anointed male baby
Out of the nine-mouth old darkness,

Today, a new day is born,
Today, a revolutionary is born,
Today, the gods have given birth,
Today, Kabutu is born,
Today, the history of Africa has given birth,
In fact, magical protection and life
Were behind this gods and his
Divine Essence was glorified with power.


© PRINCE NANA ANIN-AGYEI
Email: nanaspeaks@gmail.com
How beautiful is the
Rose flower of my heart,
She is more beautiful
Than the flowers in Aburi,

How beautiful is the
Mother of my heart,
She is a blessing to her family,
How beautiful is her

Dusky looking bark,
Her brave stands for justice
Like Yaa Asantewaa,
How beautiful are my lover’s lips,
Just like that of Frimpomaa,

How beautiful is the lady
Whose beauty Brightens
My heart like her words,
She flourishes like
Koforidua flowers,

How beautiful is the lady whose
Love can control my queer destiny,
She is like unto Nyarkowaa,

How beautiful is the convex hips of the
Lady who can make me go crazy,
She is like unto Adwoba,

How beautiful is the lady who can
Make me disobey my creator,
She is like unto Makeda,
How beautiful is the lady who has

The power to make me loose hope,
She is like unto Daehafi,
How beautiful is my blessed lover,
She is highly favoured like unto Sekina,

How beautiful is the queen of my heart,
She is reliable like unto Cleopatra,
How beautiful is my lover who causes

The will of the Gods to come to pass,
She is like unto the Timbuktu woman,
How beautiful is my lover,
She has faith like unto seed,

How beautiful is my butterfly,
Her love is stronger than tens
Of thousands of chariot
Descending from mountain Afajato,

How beautiful is the
Keeper of my heart,
She has the power to
Break my heart like Nefertiti,

How beautiful is the
Keeper of my love,
She is a mother of all

Generation like Ma’at,
How beautiful is my lover,
She is faithful like the air,

How beautiful my lover is,
She tastes like salt in my mouth,
How beautiful is my lover,

Her face turns me
On like a ripe mango,
How beautiful is my lover,

She has the power to make
Me do things against my will
Just like the seasonal rainfall,

How beautiful is my lover,
The secret to her love
And affection is still unknown,

How beautiful is my lover,
Her desires are subject to her lover’s
Whims and caprices,

How beautiful is my lover,
She sees her lover as
The head of the house,

How beautiful is my lover,
How glories are her
Feet upon my lap,

How beautiful is my lover,
She is as clean as the cat,
How beautiful is my lover,

She is as important
To me as myself,
How beautiful my lover is,
She is the pride of my life,

How beautiful is my lover,
She is as wise as the aunt,
How beautiful is my lover,

She is the guardian of my love,
How beautiful is my lover,
She has honour and respect like Isis,

How beautiful is Kabutuwaa,
She is all that I can boast of,
How beautiful and

Sweet is Obaahemaa,
She is the only lady
I was born to love,
For she is my
Koforidua flowers indeed.


© PRINCE NANA ANIN-AGYEI
Email: nanaspeaks@gmail.com
Kumasi, the Tree City,
The Kingdom City with a divine eagle
Standing bravely on a mighty stick,
The unquestionable love that embraces
The soul of the arch enemy,
The tradition that swallows
The ancient courage and modern pride,

Kumasi, the Tree City,
The mighty city that lies under
The flying wings of the
Beautiful Okumanin tree,
The golden city of the Western Sudan
Planted by the arm of the Almighty,
You are truly the dwelling
Abode of unity and majesty,

Kumasi, the Tree City,
The echoes of your ancestral spirits
Do not sleep nor slumber
You that provides a comfortable
Seat for the grandson of
The almighty Krobea Asante Kotoko,
The modern pride of the great
Ancient mother of Yaa Asantewaa,

Kumasi, the Tree City,
The great son of the vulture,
Otomfuo Osei Tutu, may not
Appreciate your present
State of modernization,
For you have surrounded
T he Golden Stool with
Carelessness and filth,
Your crime rate has swept
Away the memories of
The great Okomfo Anokye,

Kumasi, the Tree City,
Oh, the inhabitance under the protective
And motherly wings of the great tree,
The Ayoko kingship deserves a clean land,
This great city must regain
Her serene and inviting sweet-scented
Greeny and stable environment,
For mother Ghana has always
Pride herself in your glory and dignity,

Kumasi, the Tree City,
The precious eye of Asanteman,
Never deny your former glory,
Oh, the pride of West Africa
You still have what it takes
To be the Garden City of West Africa,
You are Oseikrom indeed,
Okumaninase, the capital city of Kwaman,
The heart of the Republic of Ghana.


© PRINCE NANA ANIN-AGYEI
Email: nanaspeaks@gmail.com
Alert the Ankobeahene and Kontihene
To secure the women and children,
For the language is war,
Remind the Kyidomhene,
Nifahene and the Benkumhene
To caution their men
For a possible storm,

Men of war!
Fill the mighty *** of fire
With the water fetched
From the Godstwi river,
Do not forget to mix it
With the divine talismans,

For the pale-skin men
Who knocked our doors
With their good news,
Are now knocking our
Doors with their gun news,

Represent their commanders with stones,
And place them in the boiling mixture,
Has the omnipotent Kwame and
Mother Earth approved of this?

My servants, check on the ***
Whether it has disintegrated,
Then we expect defeat,
If not, play the drums
And blow the horns of war
In delight and strength,

War!
War!
War!
Who is to lead us?
For the *** on the fire has
Expressed our defeat by
Wailing and disintegrating,

Oh yes, nevertheless the
Gods and ancestors have chosen
The vibrant queen mother of Ejisu,

Ah, though we are fighting
A war of contempt,
Her Royal majesty,
Nana Yaa Asantewaa
Shall lead the entire Ashanti army,

Weep for your children,
Oh, great Krobea Asante Kotoko,
For they are going in
For an unpleasant defeat,
But for the sake of
The courage of Yaa Asantewaa,
We shall fight!

Fight!
Fight!
Fight! Till we see defeat,
For the moon moves slowly,
But by daytime it crosses the sky.


© PRINCE NANA ANIN-AGYEI
Email: nanaspeaks@gmail.com
Mr Xelle Mar 2017
Really hope that I can be honest umm I got a problem yaa never really knew that thoughts could alter your sleep, lately I've been missing my breakfast umm uncaring but zealous yaa .Was that us or am I alone?

Living under what has been spoken tripping over what I didn't  yaa what if I win it what will I lose
Aryan Sam Aug 2018
ik gal te dass mainu
Jo zehan ch hai mere
Ohne mattha chumeya pehlaan
Yaa hath chumme tere

tere bullan di tareef pakka
Keeti honi ae
Tere jisam te nishani koi
Ditti honi ae
Haaye kujh taan hoya ae
Dona de dassde chehre
Ohne mattha chumeya pehlan
Yaa hath chumme tere

** mainu supne aunde rehnde aa
Ohde te tere ni
Ohnu seene te sulaavein
Tu har raat-henere ni
Mera chehra nai ghummda
Tere ohdon char chufere
Ohne mattha chumeya pehlan
Yaa hath chumme tere

Preet waangu pyar oss ton
Zaahir nahin hona
Paise wala taan hona ae
Par shaayar nahin hona

Ohde naal lai layi tu
Main maut naal lai loon phere
JA Feb 2017
CINTA

Orang kata cinta itu buta

Yaa....

Memang buta...

Aku buta cinta kepada orang yang tak penah aku kenali tak penah aku impikan

Tapi....cinta itu datang dengan sendirinya...
aku sendiri celaru dan keliru mana datangnya cinta yang tak penah ku impikan ini........

Mana mungkin aku kenali dia?
Hanya penah mimpi walaupun sebentar
Walaupun hanya dengan melihatnya didalam alam maya

Buta apakah ini?
Cinta apakah ini?

Adakah ini datangnya sebentar atau berlarutan?

Andai sebentar aku syukur kerna tidak sakit utk rasa ini.......

Andainya berlarutan rasa ini? Bagaimana aku untuk hadapi.....oh Allah ku.. ku perlukan engkau

Sakit......

Sakit..........dada ini
Aku tak sanggup untuk rasa ini......

Aku tak sanggup untuk pedam rasa ini.....

Adakah engkau rasakan wahai orang yang ku cintai dalam diam?

Terlalu sakit untuk pedihnya jatuh cinta ini

Andai saja engkau tahu...mungkin kau akan cintai aku jua?

Pedam dan pedam

Hanya doa ku dari ilahi ku persembahkan rasa ini
Hanya ilahi ku sahaja tahu betapa pedihnya hati ini

Moga saja engkau akan jadi miliku seuatu hari nanti
Kekasih dalam diamku

- JA
mike dm Apr 2016
i jus now saw
some dude
literally move
the apt. dumpster
so to paint
the wall white
behind it;

a wall, which,
will be completely ******* covered
by the dumpster,
after putting it back
against the newly painted white wall.

plus im pretty sure they're calling for rain..

that happened.

i actually witnessed that happen:
and, then, proceeded to
turn around
-awkwardly-
to go back inside my apt.,
with two full trashbags in hand.

... do you even realize what that means??

somebody actually gave him
that task: "go paint behind the dumpster."
aren't there other things to do?
or is this guy's boss that much of a ******
that he'd tell his employee,
"heyyy soo.... the wall.. behind the dumpster --
you know that wall? yaa
it needs to be painted.."

i mean, it'd be one thing
if, like,
the wall were
visible. and gross looking.
and people were calling
and complaining
about it,
like it was some eyesore
that offended their
otherwise
aesthetic enjoyment
and anticipation
of approaching
the scuffed forest green
apt. dumpster.

but it's not;
so it's not;
and so
they aren't.

or i'd get it if people routinely socialized
hanging around dumpsters,
like a water-coolor
or something;

buuut they don't;
so it's not
like a water-cooler..

... yaaa, unless i'm missing something here,
as far as i know,
there have been no
emerging cultural trends
whereby large groups of people
are routinely finding some
sorta symbolic resonance with
the object of a
dumpster;

it's gravitas
doesn't exactly
prompt frequent and
spontaneous dialogue
around it.

it isn't a known cultural artifact,
representing something meaningful and
bigger than ourselves, creating cohesion
and establishing an intangible commonality:

behold, our goodly trash-bearer!
great eater of things prolly totally not needed!
humble builder of plastic trash continents,
swirling vortex in the middle of the high seas!


nobody says that.

ever.

and nobody
is overstaying their visit
at a giant,
smelly
metal maw
which disposes things,
either unneeded or unwanted,
long enough
to suddenly notice that
the wall behind it
could maybe use a new paint job.

it's not exactly a cafe.
it's a ******* dumpster.

that man,
charged with the task of
painting the wall whiter
behind the dumpster,
ought to be
painting
on a canvass

which we all could see,
visible to the greater public.
and we would celebrate it, with him.
we could all gather
together, and toast
to his mind manifest, his art,
on display for all to see.

i wanna see THAT.
**** the white wall
behind the
******* dumpster.
that **** can wait.

what visions would surface?
how would he render it?

what would
he make?

i dunno

maybe
he'd paint
a surrealist depiction
of a man
charged with the task
of painting white
a wall behind a dumpster
as rain clouds
rolled in overhead,
spelling out

"i am Employer.
destroyer of worlds,
and vibes.
feel my ****** wrath."
AADI Dec 2019
voh khilkhilaati hansi raaz hai iska yaa tera mujhe ektak dekhe jaana
najaane kyun main tujhse itna pyaar karti hu ...
pyaar toh pyaar main voh bhi beshumaar karti hu...
jhootha hai tu jaanti hu magar phir bhi pata nhi kyun aitbaar karti hu...
jaanti hoon tu nhi aaega mgr phir bhi roz tera intezaar karti hu...
kuch is tarah main apne 24 ghnte kharaab karti hu ..
thaki nhi hu intezaar se abhi jaa tere liye ek aur saal brbaad krti hu
kuch is qadar main tujhse pyaar krti hu aur voh bhi beshumaar karti hu !
-aadi
bruce clapier Oct 2014
Now mom and dad had a bunch of kids yaa see there was.lots of work to be done out on the farm ya don't just **** fer fun
Nashoba Aug 2017
Hey yah hey yah oii yaa haaa yaa.. the drums the songs the words are not gone. Deep within my blood my love for the earth my home my spirit my world. All that my Grandmother taught me to be to this forsaken world.
I dance under the moon. The brightness of her light. Prayers out loud each and every night. My songs and music signing for you. To save this earth from the forsaken fate that has been placed upon you.
I love differently than others, many do not understand. My spirituality is grand. I am free with no pain. I seek no gains from the world as most do.
The only gain I wish to seek is to protect you.
Copyrighted Nashoba 2017
Howard Zagrebson May 2010
I know your game
You better be ready
because me and Glynny Boy
are gonna get yaa!

Drew, watch out
I know what your up to
and you Bathsheba
and you Swanson

Lol jokesy I'm not a mind reader...

I like Salmon and BACON sanni's
Lots of love
Howard
XxxxxX
God vowed for last days.
Kids bear kids.
Rivers become dry and the people die of thirst.
Complain is endless.

Hot is hotness,highblood  and sugar die betic  make death wess than hlv.

It is a scary world.
Killers ****, criminals steal.
Witches witch .

Loyal people become unloyal .
Where people can hide .
Truly is a final days.

Rain is sun and sun is moon,how can the thunder not be the wind.
Truly the season has changed where  people make miracles as the devil did to God.

Cows bear human animals
And a men bear older people with ***** hair, how couldn't we scare of it.

Jesus said seek me now that iam around you for the time will come where those who need me will never get me for I will be in the right hand of my Father.

Oh truly this is a final days.
In jobs people get it with bribes.
In marriage people get married with lies behind them.

Whom to trust now and then.
Because your best relative is your wors enermy.

Yaa,yeah,yes truly is a final days
My dear kabutuwaa,
A true beauty called Yaa,
The wonderful wave
That noise can pay,

The beautiful cave
That voice can say,
It was thee that pave
The dove’s way
To save my love’s ray,

Now, portray
Thy loving ice
So I can pray
For thy living justice

Grab the date
Of my love star
And let my crab mate
Thy love nectar.


© PRINCE NANA ANIN-AGYEI
Email: nanaspeaks@gmail.com
Nahh ainkh khuli ,nahhh mai sunn paya...
Maa ke pait mai rehker bhi maina apna parivar ka pyaar paya...
Jab ainkh khuli ,toh roker pura hospital sirr per uthaya ....
Phir Papa ki godi mai sirr rakhker hee mujha thoda chain aaya....
Pheli baar ghar aake , thoda mann dagmagaya....
Dada dadi ko paas dekhker,firrr maii zorr se khilkhilaya....
Jab naam sochne ki baari aayi....
Toh bua ne kaan mai naam pyaar se fusfusaya ....
Bade hokar bhi chota ke sath khelna...
Aisa charitra maina apna hee parivaar mai h paaya...
School jane ki umar mai bhi...
Har parivaar ke sadasye ko hai maina satya...
Kabhi woh dila do, yaa kabhi yeh dilado hee harr baar hai chilaya...
Harr divas ko hamne pura harsh aur ullas ke sath banya....
Pyaar se sath rehna ka hee humna hamesha se wachan h khaya....
Sabke dhurr jana ke baad bhi....
Maine apna parivaar ko hee paas paya...
Harrr sukh dukh mai unhona hee mujha  sabke sath rehna sikhaya...
Apna parivaar se dhurr jake bhi...
Maina uhna harrr jagah h paaya...
Voice call aur video call ne hee unka pyaar h mujh tak pahuchaya....
Maa ki mamta ne hee maano jaisa mujha iss kadar banaya...
Jo maina apna parivaar ka itna pyaar h paaya...
Maarte wakt bhi mera parivaar ne hee mujha kahnde per uthaya...
Ainshu aur apni yaadeino ko bhula krr hee mujha mera parivaar ne jalaya....
Thou art beautiful, Kabutuwaa,
Thou art very beautiful indeed,
See how thy skin colour
Portrays the true beauty of Mama Africa,

Thou art the darkness that gave birth
To light on the day of creation,
Thy humble character inspires
Thy divinely given blackness,

She is the beauty that every precious
Hook seeks to lay the hands on,
Yes, she is the greatest beauty
That nature has ever invested in,

She is the only moon that brightens
The boiling sun in my village,
Obaahemaa is in fact the barrier
Between tomorrow and the down,

Even though she is at the
Other side of the moon,
The drummer shall continue
Beating in deep silence,

If she hears the beating
Of his heart and she is willing,
She shall surely run towards home,

Let all the market women
Come along with their logbooks,
And enjoy the flooding fire,

Let the drums and the rich
Resonant voices Of Okyeman
Put their hands and throats to play,

Alert the slave master
Of this montage occasion,
For the true taste of the

Sacred calico has grown dim
And the echoes of the drizzling rain
Have erupted the volcanic mountains,

Her name is Yaa Kabutuwaa,
Born on a beautiful Thursday morning,
Offer my darling with the seasonal cloth

In its rich natural taste and sight,
For nature has nothing to gain
Except romantic visions and dreams,

Look up!
There she stands on her slender legs
In the middle of the blazing sun,
Spreading her lovely wings over my loneliness,

Call her by her name!
Sit her down!
Sing to her the secret bee’s song of love
To cool down her thirsty heart,

But if my true shining beauty
Will agree, give her a place in
My heart to sleep this night.

© PRINCE NANA ANIN-AGYEI
Email: nanaspeaks@gmail.com
King of the Universe, True of Voice,
The chief of Africa, great of strength,
Lord of reverence, who made all earth,
More eminent of nature than any Gods,
Over whose beauty and light the Gods rejoice,

To whom praise is given in the hearts of men,
Almighty One, with thy grace and love
I was conceived and brought forth in thy
Own true image and called me Kabutu,

I beseech thee to use thy Spirit of Peace
To create a beauty like unto Asaase Yaa
And like unto a man called a woman,
With thy mercies, I pray thee to serve
Each man with this same Spirit of Peace.


© PRINCE NANA ANIN-AGYEI
Email: nanaspeaks@gmail.com
Mark Wanless Jun 2016
foreign tongue fast babbling phone call
to half a world away genetic kin
easy as dirt
like the dirt that owns the blood
half a century away
land of snows and lapis sky
hungry maroon monks incanting
barbaric yawp pujas in
decadent political system
controlling the yellow spirit and red blood
of happy ignorant sad intelligent humanity
of the there then
it's always been like this world
when mighty mao and red army liberates
with bullets prisons mortars torture
barrel of the gun communist truth
rippin tongues out with meat hooks
father of such misery you can not see
they treat everyone like this
not just you         yaa that dirt
Tibet

i was present and hearing a phone call between relatives half a world away, literally
Thou art beautiful, Kabutuwaa,
Thou art very beautiful indeed,
See how thy skin colour
Portrays the true beauty of Mama Africa,

Thou art the darkness that gave birth
To light on the day of creation,
Thy humble character inspires
Thy divinely given blackness,

She is the beauty that every precious
Hook seeks to lay the hands on,
Yes, she is the greatest beauty
That nature has ever invested in,

She is the only moon that brightens
The boiling sun in my village,
Obaahemaa is in fact the barrier
Between tomorrow and the down,

Even though she is at the
Other side of the moon,
The drummer shall continue
Beating in deep silence,

If she hears the beating
Of his heart and she is willing,
She shall surely run towards home,

Let all the market women
Come along with their logbooks,
And enjoy the flooding fire,

Let the drums and the rich
Resonant voices Of Okyeman
Put their hands and throats to play,

Alert the slave master
Of this montage occasion,
For the true taste of the

Sacred calico has grown dim
And the echoes of the drizzling rain
Have erupted the volcanic mountains,

Her name is Yaa Kabutuwaa,
Born on a beautiful Thursday morning,
Offer my darling with the seasonal cloth

In its rich natural taste and sight,
For nature has nothing to gain
Except romantic visions and dreams,

Look up!
There she stands on her slender legs
In the middle of the blazing sun,
Spreading her lovely wings over my loneliness,

Call her by her name!
Sit her down!
Sing to her the secret bee’s song of love
To cool down her thirsty heart,

But if my true shining beauty
Will agree, give her a place in
My heart to sleep this night.


© PRINCE NANA ANIN-AGYEI
Email: nanaspeaks@gmail.com
Holiday Jan 2021
(We could break the last straw.
Running through these trap doors.
Baby this the last call.
Going gone, blast off.
We goin hit the roof top, moon walk ...Baby we are N.A.S.A
N.A.S.A
N.A.S.A)

Don't need no G5 denied.
I might free dive the sky.
Live like I retired tonight.
I got these tigers in my eyes.
I wanna re-re-revive you
re-re-revive you.
re-ig-nite the fuel.
We live our life for two.
We got the nicest moves.
There's no time to lose.
I got my eyes on you.
That's my kind of groove.

(..We could break the last straw.
Running through these trap doors.
Baby this the last call.
Going gone, blast off.
We goin hit the roof top, moon walk ...Baby we are N.A.S.A
N.A.S.A
N.A.S.A

Check my momentum.
We're glowing through the spectrum.
They want the nectar.
Do it until they necks hurt.
All over the map we in a whole different vector.
This the knight life apple of my eye.
Yaa we do it like the templars.
I'm always gone
So I never know wen digo
wen digo
wen wen digo
wen digo
wen digo
wen wen digo
wen digo
wen digo
wen wen digo
wen digo
wen digo
wen wen digo

(..We could break the last straw.
Running through these trap doors.
Baby this the last call.
Going gone, blast off.
We goin hit the roof top, moon walk ...Baby we are N.A.S.A)
Take some
When life through you lemon make lemonade.
When problem appear in you life make it progress.
When friends turn their back stand up straight and move on
If people confront you just comfort them

What ever
We are in a journey, not knowing our place to reach but we keep moving.

When people stear you make it steering.
When people make jokes of you make it joko and drink it.

What ever life gives you don't hesitate to give an opposite of it

What ever eish
Yaa
What ever
A M Sep 2020
Ab Yeh Sangeen Sa Sawaal
Phir Sai Kar Raha Hai Bhawaal
Aaakhir Mai Kaun Hu ||

Kya Hu Mai Ek Hawa Ka Jhaukha
Yaa Bas Woh Mitti Ka Anmol Tukda ||

Kya Hu Mai Woh Nadi Ka Paani
Yaa Bas Woh Wruksh Ki Sansaani.

Kya Hu Mai Woh Na Bujti Roshini
Yaaa Bas Woh Kaunai Ki Andheri.

Aaakhir Mai Kaun Hu ||
Satvik gupta Aug 2019
I M NOT YOURS,
THAT'S WHAT YOU SAID.
THE EXOTIC CLUB'S BILL,
THAT I PAID.

YOUR PRESENCE CRAVES,
MY LIL HEADACHES,
THAT WERE YOUR SWEETEST REPLIES.
I WAS MURDERED,
FROM THE WORDS OF MY OWN ALLY.


EACH CHOCOLATE
THAT I SHARED
EVERY PARK AND GARDEN
WHERE WE PLAYED
LAID
UNDER THE CHERRY TREE
PAID
THE COST OF SPREE

DIDN'T MADE ANY SENSE TO YOU,
BETRAYING ME PLEASED YOU,
MY FILTHY RICHNESS CLICKED YOU,
YAA GOLD DIGGER I FIGURED YOU.
THIS IS TO INFORM EVERY GIRL WHO LOVES  ONLY MONEY
WELL THAT'S FUNNY
gadisunja May 2022
Pernah, satu hari dari banyak hari lebaran, aku pergi ke Indomaret sendirian. Jarak rumah dengan tempat itu tidak jauh, tapi perjalanan ke sana terasa lamban. Tahu kenapa? Sebab aku pergi dengan sembunyi-sembunyi hihii. Tujuannya hanya satu, untuk berburu es krim corong Wall's Moo.

Kalau dingat-ingat, rasa es krimnya memang tidak sepremium Magnum. Wall's Moo hanya menyuguhkan rasa susu dan itu sudah lebih dari cukup bagi kami kaum anak lugu tahun 2009-2010.

Sesampainya di rumah, aku sama sekali tidak disambut marah oleh orang-orang rumah. Mbak Chandrani menghampiri.
"Habis jajan yaa? Beli apa?"
"Iya, beli Wall's Moo satu."
"Cuma satu ya? Yasudah nda apa-apa, lain kali harus ingat kalau ada angka 3 setelah angka 2 dan angka 1 sebelumnya, ya?"
"Hah? Maksudnya apa, Mbak?"
"Lain kali, kalau kamu merasa ada cukup uang untuk jajan apa aja, cobalah ambil tiga atau nda sama sekali.
Supaya apa? Supaya selalu ada cukup ruang di hati untuk biasa berbagi."
Belakangan aku mengerti, kalau es krim yang kubeli hanya satu, kebahagiaannya hanya aku sendiri yang  bisa rasa. Kalau es krim yang kubeli ada tiga, kebahagiannya bisa dirasakan semua.
Festus Boamah Feb 2019
All along with me in a gleam
I leap onward like a stream
Even when it's uncertainly certain
I know the future is awfully pretty
Held in a kilometer tunnel

Hey! have you seen how complicated life can be?
There are so many wheels running into the future
They run down the hills like the fountains
Some are like a burnt that never displayed it sparkles
Like the turgid clouds heart broken with smiles of fed ups too
The past is always tense, the future perfect

But once upon….
Upon all gifts situated in the arms of reasoning
Shelters discord the layers of harmony
When we are tired, we are attacked by ideas
Ideas we conquered long ago
When we are hidden beneath how complicated life can be
Our little desires implicate every passing moments
There are so many wheels running into the future
But the cautious gives gestures deed

Only the dust of wheels
Makes the future uncertain
The hills which reflects our days
The foundation that holds our life in place
Simple as meals on tyre-wheels
Without it support, we'd have nothing for guidance
Into the life with no color

I don’t want to substitute
So I made a promise; to keep the past
I laid my past on the desk
When the dusk dawn I reset it on the pillow
Like the lit darkness; I saw a vacuum
My yesterdays walk with me
They keep step; they are gray faces
That peer over my shoulder
I’ve stared from a distance
And for once I’ve envisioned the next existence

Indeed the past is dark yet the future will bright
So I made a promise
I laid my present as a sacrifice
When the feet stumble in mud
The toes leave marks of five
It husk reaped off; they are confident in hive
My future talks with me
I’ve stared from a distance
And for once I will refuse every resistance


Written by:
Yaa Walker N. & Festus Elikem B.
Looking through the tunnel, there is always a light ahead. There is this relationship between the tunnel and the light. We're all in that train railing through the tunnel. Definitely, not all of us will get to the light in a blink but eventually everybody will leave the tunnel.
Vanessa Gatley Mar 2019
How can I successfully
Become Regina a queen
Of money .yaa

— The End —