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#ngwonders
(A Poem Inspired by Igbo Landing) In the hush of Georgia's morning mist, Where the reeds whisper secrets the ocean kissed, A tale still stirs beneath the tide, Of broken chains and ancient pride. They came in silence, shackled souls, From lands where the Baobab consoles, From the red earth of Igbo land, Bound by force, not by command. The slave ship creaked with stolen breath, Its hull a tomb of living death. Eyes like storms, yet voices still, Carried across the ocean’s will. Through markets loud with foreign tongue, Their names erased, their stories wrung. Sold like beasts to soil unknown, But spirit rooted deep in bone. To Georgia’s shores they met the day, Forced to march the master’s way. But on that creek, near Dunbar's bend, They found their line, they drew their end. The whispers came in Igbo speech, A truth that shackles could not reach. “The water brought us, it shall take Us home beneath the silver lake.” They rose not with sword, nor with fire, But with defiance that would not tire. One turned, then all, hand clasped in hand, They faced the waves, they made their stand. Into the depths, they chose to go, Where no whip cracks, where no tears flow. No master’s name to stain the tongue, No life in ******* to be wrung. They walked as gods, not broken men, Refused the yoke, returned again To ancestors who waited still Beyond the sea, beyond the hill. And now the wind, it hums their song, The creeks remember what was wrong. The water holds their solemn vow: "We bent then but never now." Their tale was buried, whispered low, But spirits rise where rivers flow. At Igbo Landing, silence breaks Each ripple knows the stand they made. So let this be their legacy: A story not of slavery But of a people, proud and free, Who claimed their final destiny. For the Igbos who chose the water, May your courage flow forever.
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Oct 15, 2025
Oct 15, 2025 at 4:14 AM UTC
Igbo Landing: Where Chains Broke and Spirit Soared.
(A Poem Inspired by Igbo Landing) In the hush of Georgia's morning mist, Where the reeds whisper secrets the ocean kissed, A tale still stirs beneath the tide, Of broken chains and ancient pride. They came in silence, shackled souls, From lands where the Baobab consoles, From the red earth of Igbo land, Bound by force, not by command. The slave ship creaked with stolen breath, Its hull a tomb of living death. Eyes like storms, yet voices still, Carried across the ocean’s will. Through markets loud with foreign tongue, Their names erased, their stories wrung. Sold like beasts to soil unknown, But spirit rooted deep in bone. To Georgia’s shores they met the day, Forced to march the master’s way. But on that creek, near Dunbar's bend, They found their line, they drew their end. The whispers came in Igbo speech, A truth that shackles could not reach. “The water brought us, it shall take Us home beneath the silver lake.” They rose not with sword, nor with fire, But with defiance that would not tire. One turned, then all, hand clasped in hand, They faced the waves, they made their stand. Into the depths, they chose to go, Where no whip cracks, where no tears flow. No master’s name to stain the tongue, No life in ******* to be wrung. They walked as gods, not broken men, Refused the yoke, returned again To ancestors who waited still Beyond the sea, beyond the hill. And now the wind, it hums their song, The creeks remember what was wrong. The water holds their solemn vow: "We bent then but never now." Their tale was buried, whispered low, But spirits rise where rivers flow. At Igbo Landing, silence breaks Each ripple knows the stand they made. So let this be their legacy: A story not of slavery But of a people, proud and free, Who claimed their final destiny. For the Igbos who chose the water, May your courage flow forever.
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In Nigeria’s heart, the wonders shine, From Ogbunike Caves to Yankari’s line. Farin Ruwa falls with power and grace, While Owu’s waters dance in place. Olumo Rock stands strong and wide, Idanre Hills with age and pride. Obudu’s mountains, calm and high, Where Niger and Benue rivers lie. Nigeria’s wonders, rich and rare, A land of beauty, beyond compare. From north to south, east to west, NGWonders show Nigeria’s best.
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Jul 16, 2025
Jul 16, 2025 at 6:25 PM UTC
NGWonders
I have seen a lot in this life, The only thing I haven't seen is that which doesn't exist, I have seen a lot in this life, That which my mouth cannot explain. Tell us what you saw Mr. Stephen, What is it you saw that Troubles you, Did you see the rainbow or seven colours of madness, Tell us Mr. Ekemezie what exactly you saw? I saw people I saw inhumanity, I saw heartlessness in-love with wickedness, I saw bitterness wedding greediness, Callousness came to the wedding wearing injustice. I saw evil ruling the universe, Anger, dishonesty and falsehood are there with her, I saw a sick earth where everything goes, A world full of oppression and strife, No humanity at all which keeps me speechlessly mouthless.
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Jul 14, 2025
Jul 14, 2025 at 7:07 PM UTC
Mouthless
Holy Gabriel evil Michael *** calling kettle black Thieves of righteousness With demonized hands. Holy Uriel evil Raphael Birds of the same feather Father condemning son Innocent criminal criminalizing Innocent. Holy David evil Uriah Evil Sheba holy Bethsheba One lost a husband the other had none ****** Mary turned Angel Katherina. Holy Satan evil God. They're always right and you're wrong always Satan judging demons for a pie Friend selling friends for money and unquenchable greed.
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Jun 11, 2025
Jun 11, 2025 at 10:41 PM UTC
Holy Satan
Here comes a generation of substance. Trouble lies, her name is Constance Future of tomorrow caught with substance Imagine Janet, Judith, Tiktok for instance. Looking Hot another name for Misconduct. Tell Angela Martins I have her product. She ordered ring light for brightness With a future filled with darkness. Technology is sweeter than Candy, Sweeter than the candy I gave to Andy. Teenagers teenaging in Advancement, With rationality reduced to Entertainment. Tiktok, Facebook and Whatsapp, Nigerians are lost in you dear App. Tell them what you're meant for, Lest we dance wastefully to Old age.
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Jun 8, 2025
Jun 8, 2025 at 6:41 PM UTC
Tiktok