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 Jun 2016
Alem Hailu GKristos
Derartu, Haile, Tirunesh
Kenenisa, Meseret, and all
With a similar footfall!

Displaying a superb
Long-distance athletic feat
When many superstars
Awe inspiringly you beat
And as a result of it
When your sought-for
Fought-for
And nation- prayed-for
Dream proves a hit
And also with kudos
A stadium full of people opt
You to greet
And when spectators
Accord you a high five
It is for your country's  flag
You  immediately dive!
Also on the podium
while Ethiopia's row-wise
Green,Yellow and Red
Emblazoned flag,
Shoulder high,
Soars above
You express
Your  umbilical cord-tight
National love
With tears that
Trickle down each of
Your cheek,quick.

Is it because
Reminiscent of
Each living hero
With a life sacrifice
That brought colonial
Aggression to zero?

Is it because
The bounty of the land
You grew up
Seeing first hand?

Is it because
The cherished corner
You cut in the heart of
The poor but prideful
Ethiopian neighbour?

Is it because
The unity in diversity
That showcases
Ethiopia's identity
Or citizens hospitality?

Is it because
At heart strings a tug
Or ,among others
Gratefulness to
Your iron-strong lung
When you hear
Ethiopian anthem sung?

Is it because a secret another
Deep down you harbour?

Is it because the Fertility
Hope and Sovereignty ideals
The flag advance,
Also Ethiopia's being
A beacon of independence
What is more
The nation's renaissance
Which in a curtain of mist
Before your eyes dance?
A poem I prepared this time in connection  with the celebration of the flag day,Ethiopia
 Jun 2016
kanma Oduwegwu
these lines won't stop
till something starts
as pain goes on and i sleep in peace
with dreams for tomorrow
that they don't have

i wish but don't
to stay with them
to ask these questions
that cloud my head
and clear my mind of strange weird stuff

i think they dream
'cos they're human too
of the morrow bright
that never come
or horrible faces
with bombs to ****
and shatter their dreams
without much thought

I dream of a dream
to soothe their pain
but can this still work?
when death abounds
or increase their pain as i try to help

they seem to be soft
but no not them
for the pain that strengthens
even the lame
has come to them
and given them speed
but help they need
and without the us it might get to us

This faith that says
Yes or death
does it bring peace?
or more of death
to innocent fools that believed their pranks

My heart is washed
with tears of mine
as i write these lines
that give me guilt
for watching in peace
as they die strange deaths

I know i can help
and so i must
for destinies are buried
in tombs unmarked
for no one can tell
the dreams that lie there

some miss and miss
and never return
yet they flush our eyes
with economy sheets
to **** our hearts that pleads for peace
and leave these souls
to suffer till doom

we believe in you
Oh! creator divine
look at our case
and seal their lips
for help we want
and peace bring forth
as in a matter of days
we might be sold

I know their fate
may become mine
if i shut my lips
and gather more wealth
for so we have lived
forgetting their pain
these brethren in need
that we really don't see

*will your choice bring peace?
or many more deaths
in a few days the general elections will take place in my country (Nigeria) and many people are roasted alive, massacred, beaten to death daily in the North and a Muslim is at the top front for presidency please spare a little time to say a prayer for us...... For the innocent die without any record
 Jun 2016
Chijioke Nnamani
Freedom is like peeing when you’re pressed
Or blowing your nose
Like dancing reckless to good music
Or a floating balloon in strong wind

Freedom is like you and I
Laughing as we walk slowly
Hand in hand under the rain
With bare feet and without care

Freedom is like us
All of us
Letting go of opinions
And daring to do
What makes our hearts beat faster
Not du-dum, du-dum but
Free-dom, free-dom
LOBOLA
Let me drift you away from the idea that lobola is buying your wife. No! It isn't. As black families, we believe that parents raise kids and once the kids have grown and are independent they get to now take care of their parents. Now! We know that once you get married, that might change because now you will be having your own family to take care of. We know that as men, that never really changes...you still get to take care of your parents and a family of your own hence there is no lobola for men. Now as women, we acknowledge that you are going to get married and go live by your in-laws or some place else and traditionally it is believed that you are never to come back home since you have been "taken". Understandably so because you are now part of a certain family and have broken the cord from yours. Fast forward to lobola therefore as a man who is taking away a woman from a family which she was taking care of, you ought to leave them with something so that they may continue living or surviving since you are taking away their "bread winner". Back in the days lobola was paid by cows, because with livestock you are rich and can survive for many years. The idea of lobola started being an issue and misunderstanding when it converted to hard cash. Which shouldn't have because it is still the same concept...with a certain amount of money you should be able to take care of your family and survive. How lobola got misinterpreted as buying your wife is not well understood however it could be presumed that it is because of the attributes that contributes to the price tagging. Your behaviour, achievements, ability to reproduce etc are what contributes to the billing. Which honestly shouldn't be an issue because parents know that with the achievements that you have you were going to take care of them well...very well. With the manners that you have...you will respect your husband and be obedient towards him. You will bear kids for your husband and gave a big family. Everyone is happy. All in all to able to understand the concept of lobola you have to understand culture and tradition but you are going to say "times have changed" and you are now modernised.
#Lobola #black #Culture
 May 2016
SirDlova
I'm No born free
I tasted the dust of apartheid
My mother was hiding behind the trees screaming for help
No one was there
No time to sleep
We were cursed for struggle
My father never smiled when my mother would say "the baby is kicking"
Cause he knew,it wasn't the kick of joy
It wasn't a sign of being a soccer star
It was the struggle!

1990 Mandela was out of prison
1993 I was born
1994 the Dom's were free
No more Dom-pass,but not uhuru still
Innocent souls were lost
What was the fighting worth for?

I can forgive but never forget
When De klert called black fools
He said they do nothing but barking
We turned to dogs now

This is for Steve Biko
Chris Hani
Hector Paterson
Raymond mhlaba

Let not my skin define who I am
Let not the earth describe me
I know my future because of my history
I was raised in a town of fallen angels
Where blacks were deceived
Whites felt free
Turn the lights off we all the same colour
Don't turn them on
I want my son to know the history
But to not repeat it.

They say follow your leader
How can you follow corruption?
Zuma this zuma that
Its all illusion
I'll only follow u twitter
I want you to retweet all the ish I'll be posting about you,the ******,The Nkandla part,The Cheating,The Art and the bunch of wives

Yes I voted,I still don't know why I voted
Helen Zille only speaks xhosa in time of elections
Jacob Zuma gives free taxis only to the voting station
Julius Malema will bring apartheid back it is said on radio stations

Mandela spent most time in hospital
All of a sudden his dead
Was he even in jail before?
Oscar Pistorius ran to ****
His now a criminal.

Mandela note on my hand
But valueless

Our economy is dying
Our world is dying

My Dear South Africa..No Power!
#The reason why I was kicking in my mothers womb
 Apr 2016
Raphael Uzor
The intermittent, distant rumbling in the skies was suggestive of chronic flatulence. The sun struggled in futility to shine – like a crying child who had been forced to smile. Lightning flashed in quick successions, momentarily throwing brilliant streaks of white light across the room. The angry growl of thunder that followed was enough to send a troop of Howler monkeys scampering for safety.

The lights flickered as though unable to make up their minds to stay or not to. But apparently, the wind had zero tolerance for such petty indecisiveness. And like an enraged, stimulated, demented animal, it gusted through the windows and doors, hauling loose papers, light bulbs in every direction, shattering the bulbs to smithereens, as if to punish them for being so fickle. The lights died.

Thick black blankets eerily stretched across the skies with gusto, menacingly extinguishing whatever was left of the sun’s brilliance. More rumbles and flashes followed in royal herald of the impending storm. And in no time, slick sheets of rain torrentially came pouring down, cascading the roofs to form puddles almost as soon as they hit the ground.

​I looked in horror, fervently praying that whoever God had appointed to build the ark in our time had not diverted the funds. I was trapped in the office, and I knew exactly what this meant…flood, scarcity of buses, hiked transport fares, heavy taffic and very likely, at least one month of blackout.
It would be another three hours of steady downpour before the rain eventually stopped, as gracefully as it had been ushered in.
I picked up my bag, rolled up my trousers in earnest anticipation of the inevitable flood, and made my way home.

​To my utter bewilderment, there were no floods! The lights from the street lamps cast a soft golden glow on the slick roads, seemingly creating mirages of pools of water from afar off. But they were mere illusions. The gurgling sound coming from the underground drainage was proof of where all the water had gone. It was a strange sight. Like some alien cyborg from space had been fiddling with a time machine that had accidentally propelled us twenty years into the future.

My new world was a three-fold utopian dream. So surreal!
I could see beautiful, high-rise, state of the art edifices with mind-blowing architectural designs that blatantly seemed to defy the laws of gravity. I could see world-class hospitals that admitted ailing dignitaries from around the world and top-notch schools that offered scholarships to deserving indigenous and international students.
Sure enough, this was Nigeria! The Nigeria we all dreamed of.

And there was light…electricity! - In myriad of colours that seemed to have been dispersed from several colossal disco ***** via *“wireless fidelity”
technology. I strained to hear the noise from generators, but I was disappointed. I couldn’t even hear the all too familiar cacophony of horns blaring, conductors shouting, loud discordant music, rattling vehicle engines etc. It was like everyone and everything had taken a crash course on orderliness.

I saw a vibrant transportation system that included high speed railway lines, paved road networks that looked like a child’s doodles, first-class air strips and efficient sea transportation.
I saw a working government - one that had provided the critical infrastructure for her people.

I saw a nation with a large industrialized economy, where the dividends of democracy had been delivered to the people by their government. One consciously founded on equity and honesty of purpose, and courageously sustained by unfaltering faithfulness and unwavering patriotism.      
A nation whose economic boost did not come solely from crude oil exploration and production, but also from crude oil refining, agriculture, manufacturing, infrastructure, food, services, tourism, automobiles, transportation, education etc.
A nation that thronged with international investors from all walks of life, who were not in the least afraid to invest in her.

And then, I saw her people. A people proud of their citizenship.
A people proud to be called NIGERIANS.
A people who were not given to religious, political, or tribal bigotry.
A people who individually and collectively, gallantly bore the torch of the vision of their heroes past.
A people who earnestly and persistently worked to see only goods “Made in Nigeria” sold in their markets.

Where there was once despair, I saw hope. Where there was once fear, i saw security. Where there was once disgruntlement, I saw satisfaction. Where there was once poverty, I saw wealth opportunities and where there was unemployment, I saw jobs. Death had given way to life and life to hope.

I started, as I felt something cold and wet trickle down my forehead. It was droplets of rain from a leak in the roof just above my head. I was still in my office, I never left. The rain had lulled me to sleep. Even more sadly, I realized it had all been a dream.
Slowly and regretfully, I packed my things and left for home. It was pitch black outside as I carefully waded through the polluted waters, jauntily holding my bag, more because I was afraid to lose it in the flood than in a hopeless bid to dignify the situation.

Two hours later, I crawled into bed. I did not have to turn the lights off…the electric poles had gone for a swim. A very long one.



© ONUGHA EBELE VICTORIA
This is NOT my work, but I found it amazingly share worthy.
 Apr 2016
Moore Dagogo Hart
Dear 'luck,
Sometimes I wonder how those girls feel
How their goodluck turned around
It's like running on banana peels
Keepfalling, can't even get up
The key is in the sea, someone changed our luck :(
Cos this isn't the guy we all trusted to change our walks
It's funny how $12 could buy a life
And N2000 can buy a wife
A child is supposed to think of getting grown
And not wearing a wedding gown
You call yourselves the govern-ment so do what you're meant to do
Cos I'm a believer that you can deliver our innocent people.
#Nigeria
 Apr 2016
david mungoshi
glassy tears accentuate a wan smile
limp hand mirrors diminished vitality
as young flesh begins to shrink
consumed by the growling dogs of war

a comrade at arms does his best to stay calm
she looks at him as her bowels slide to the ground
from a stomach ripped open by cluster bombs
and asks him: will i be able to make it comrade
is this not the last sunset that i see with these eyes of mine
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