Mar 2014
At times I am verily weary to the bone,
Confining my soul in a self-made cocoon
By shutting out the world from my heart
As my mind meanders speedily tween
The hills of despair thru' rueful spleen--
There was a country ere things fell apart.
Pining for the wonder wand of Bro. Jero,
Our hopes have turned to zero--
Hit by the arrow of God--ha, penkelemesi!
Who can now this nation's nemesis remedy?
Confining my soul in a self-made cocoon
By shutting out the world from my heart
As my mind meanders speedily tween
The hills of despair thru' rueful spleen--
There was a country ere things fell apart.
Pining for the wonder wand of Bro. Jero,
Our hopes have turned to zero--
Hit by the arrow of God--ha, penkelemesi!
Who can now this nation's nemesis remedy?
Acknowledging Wole Soyinka (Nobel Laureate) and Chinua Achebe--both of whom august Professors of Literature; chronic critics of mad, mediocre regimes, lack-lustre living and advocates of the small fry--whose master titles are initiated herein.
*Wole Soyinka's: Ibadan: The Penkelemesi Years, and The Trials of Brother Jero
*Chinua Achebe's: Things Fall Apart, and Arrow of God
*Wole Soyinka's: Ibadan: The Penkelemesi Years, and The Trials of Brother Jero
*Chinua Achebe's: Things Fall Apart, and Arrow of God
