"nigerians" poems
This is dedicated to the millions who died in the Biafra - Nigeria civil war
Counting the losses
Of my people at dawn
Breaking the curses
Of no wholly source
I sought to wage war
Without funds and money
I thought to secede
From a nation strong and many
I was full of envy for vain minorities
I am an educated soldier
Of an eastern defunct border
Proclaiming Biafra
Was so big an agenda
Building militias
To **** and to tether
My opposed tribal brothers
And the critics of my powers
I denied much on media
All that hid in my fingers
My plans I held higher
The proclamation of Biafra
I am an educated soldier
Of an eastern defunct border
Visible to the blind
Were were ready for a fight
Audible to the deaf
Huge price of war to pay
Hausas killed in numbers
By my igbo sons and daughters
yorubas were driven without boots
by my fellow Biafran youths
Ibibios were suspicious
So were Urhobos, Itsekiris and Ijaws
Enmity was at its peak
So high that none could breach
All these were my agenda
My services to Biafra
Was so good for me to render
On May 30th 1967
Was just like a fable
I declared in the open
Without even a wobble
The state of Biafra
Almost complete; an agenda
An anthem was composed
Flag and currency; none could oppose
The heat of the tension
Is such I couldn't mention
The height of jubilation
Not all did it favor
There was sorrow in the land
This, I cared not apart
I was a symbol in the world
For the havoc I did cause
I am an educated soldier
Of an eastern defunct border
The war began
With no money at hand
We fought with pride
With pains in our hands
We fought with might
Defending our father's land
We died in mass
Numbers of air attacks
We killed civilians
Of the tribes against our plan
We'd shoot in the heart
Every oppose we'd catch
Nigerians were too strong
but we swore we'd burn
I saw no flaw
In the havoc I did cause
I am an educated soldier
Of an eastern defunct border
Hunger and thirst
Was order of the day
Sorrow was a pest
and death had no end
Too many burdens to bear
The pains of war to pay
We ran out of guns
Bullets, grenades, even bombs
We had but matchets
Arrows, stones and spears
But We faced an army
Of full artillery
Our tragedy had no end
Even God couldn't help
So our homicide was cast
And We became fossils at last
Let those who seek war; stop and think
The pains of it;higher than that of peace
So I e'caped in a copter
Leaving my people to suffer
So on exile I did ponder
while millions died in yonder
I am an educated soldier
Of an eastern defunct border
I write from the grave
From the hell of my pains
I was that educated soldier
Who took you to battle borders
And ran, leaving you to suffer
I was that educated soldier
Of an eastern defunct border.
Oct 14, 2016
Oct 14, 2016 at 9:00 PM UTC
I want to know more than one
Haitian
I want to know more than three
Jamaicans
I want to meet Nigerians that speak
Igbo
Kenyans that laugh at the Swahili I learned in Berkeley
Ugandans that correct my Mandarin
Tanzanians that teach me how to say it in Cantonese
I want to tour the holy city Ile-Ife
trace the pilgrimage path of Mansa Musa
then circle back to Timbuktu
See the reminders of Aksum
See the remainders of Kmt
Touch the Earth and envision the buildings that my ancestors constructed
thousands of years before they were invaded thousands of times
leaving the still standing walls that others never believed were thousands of years old
till their, “science” said so
I want to board a barge in the south and flow north with the Nile
I wonder what eight others will join me
I want to walk the same trail
that was the first trail
compare my foot print
to the first foot print
The vision I see
The things I want to do
The escape I want to take
Isnt one that is new
Its one that is old
so old that its in the blood
in the very fabric and design
of all that claim
Human
What I want is a realization
no
a reawakening
of my genetic inheritance
of my ancestral birthright
What calls me is the land so old
its true name
its original tongue
is the only
can only
be labeled
The First
There
that is what calls to me
There
that is what pushes me
that is the very intangible force that pulsates my heart
pumping the blood through my veins
That place that is forever older than old
yet
In a constant state of
Reconstruction
Recreation
Revelation
Renovation
Revitalization
Revolution
I want to breath the air in that place that is always in a state of newness
I want to feel the frequency in that place
where there are as many words for new
as there are people to speak them
That is the place
That is the space
That is
© Christopher F. Brown 2015
Nov 27, 2015
Nov 27, 2015 at 11:36 AM UTC
I fell short of matching all of the stars in space with the raindrops that made its way to Earth
Instead, I matched the stars in your eyes with the old pain's last breath and otherworldly love's first
The clouds have opened back up for business, booming thunder and zooming lightning
Somewhere there, the flash of your smile
The beat of your heart
The coolness of your waters that quench my thirst for you
It's natural to look at nature au naturale
Like Italians and Nigerians talking with hands as expressive as Deaf lovers relay romantic verses
Clear, nimble fingers that massage my soul within the cumulonimbus and nimbostratus
Fueling, flooding, fostering the gods' apparatus
You
The final form of unfinished paintings
Give birth to worthwhile wishful thinking
On my mind like taxes and teacher's lesson plans
A soft brush adjusting to the sky's new hues kissed like ones we've missed or knew
A masterpiece in pieces of Vishnu's vision for when he returns to look for Lakshmi
Hopefully time will not be Shiva to end this for me
How does it feel to be adored by Indra, when showers descend and drench the deepest ditches to force creation of drawbridges for those dire to cross your path again?
- Ifeanyi N. Okoro II © 2021
Jul 6, 2021
Jul 6, 2021 at 5:00 AM UTC
The wind of change
the wind of Revolution,on our sails
soon it will sweep across all countries
all over my beloved continent
Stronger than the harmattan I hear it is
the cry has been heard
the wails are too loud
the battle lines drawn
young nigerians say no to tsars
and hell noooo to SARS
message is one #abolish SARS
a united no to oppression
fear not their portion
Beginning of the end
they are ready
ready to reclaim the soul of Africa
message is one from young Nigerians
we want to live,we want to be safe
Respect our existence
or expect our resistance !!!
Oct 22, 2020
Oct 22, 2020 at 4:59 AM UTC
At the Biafran front, I fought
Tearing down Nigerians
With shots of guns
We fought like men
Defending our lands
But with risk and fear
As some went blind
Among our troops
Were hatred and envy
Tribalism of doom
Had taken over our army.
Alongside my brother
We triggered together
Tearing down men
Like pales of feathers.
As a boy of sixteen
I saw terror in fifteen
Behold dead men lay like weeds
Vultures had enough to feed
Among the dead people
I saw my old father, he died still feeble.
Turning to my right
Lay my mother, sister at flight
My hands became weak
And my heart did bleed
They were killed by the army
Which I fought that they live.
Biafra was in famine
As children starved to death
A thousand Igbos massacred at night
As our troops retreat to die.
Nigeria flew their jets
Bombing no one but children and old women
A grenade caught my brother
And I knew it all be over.
The seaways were surrounded
Nigerian Navy locked us in our grave
No weapon came to Biafra
Even our camouflage had become rags
Enugu; capital of Biafra had been captured
There's nothing left, except to be raptured.
Oron and Calabar fell
Nigeria sent us hell
So in battle front we had
Nothing more than matchets and planks
Our major had ran
And we were left, to die at our hands.
With fear, my fellows fell
The fear of death, none could tell
I ran through the forest
Finding way for my escape
Lo there was a tunnel
And so I escaped Colonels.
Fifty thousand fighters quite survived it
They were buried alive
In mass graves for their deeds.
Down in my tunnel of sleep
I saw my family in the deep
Papa, I called aloud my father
He said go for the war is over.
Biafra had surrendered
But I had lost an arm
Millions had died
Diseases did bade them bye
The war, famine did sail them high
Though a soldier I survived.
I had lost my home family and lineage.
What would I do with a withered arm?
Flies had really fed it by
As the last man alive, No one cared whether I die.
So I died a lonely death
With no one to cry
Oct 14, 2016
Oct 14, 2016 at 9:20 PM UTC
Who do we run to when our leader's or do i say rulers no longer care about us
They promised us "CHANGE"
The word "CHANGE" is flying in the air
Our nation is in total ruin
Cost of living is skyrocketing daily
Food is no more affordable nor is it accessible
Our nation is feeling this devastation
Only politicians are well to do
They have forgotten about us
They have forgotten the promise made to us
They never came any close to fulfilling their mandate
When l look at our politicians extravagant lifestyles I asked
What about US
What about all the time they said they are the answers
In my country ,
Those who care to give or share dont have to give or share
In my country ,
Those who have to give or share, dont want to give or share
The masses are kept in the mood of despondency
It seems to many that all hopes are lost
Some after having their last meal, they wait for death to come
While some take their lives either by jumping off the bridges or taking a highly concentrated chemical down their throat .
Who will redeem our nation
Who will revive our economy
Who do we run to when their is no food in the country
Who do we run to when price of fuel is skyrocketing without control
Who do we run to when rent is no more affordable to the masses
Who do we run to when every good thing in our country can only be accessible to 5% of the country's population
Nigeria is our country
It is not for the politicians to take,
Not for the 5% well to do Nigerians to take
Nigeria is for all of us
We love our country
Thats why we are lamenting
We are tired of being victimised in our own country
It is totally unjust and its affecting everyone either financially, physically, menally psychologically or otherwise
... How do we get our dream Nigeria
Feb 25, 2024
Feb 25, 2024 at 5:52 AM UTC
Spartans had to roam the East
In the land as yet unfettered
Some Nigerians have to find a beast
And **** it to show they've bettered
Barmitzvahs may be tradition for some,
But for me coming of age was looking in a mirror
And realising that I've stopped changing
That I'm just like every other finished piece.
The mark of an adult is seeing a man
And feeling threatened by his size
The mark of an adult is seeing a woman
And thinking dark thoughts inside
The mark of an adult is meeting strangers
And instantly forgetting their name
And instantly not caring.
Many had to tame the wilds to become full grown of old
And we are not so different, we bear a darkness too
We must pass the burning eye of the real world's value of gold
We have to bear the people seeing nothing when they see you.
Jan 14, 2015
Jan 14, 2015 at 6:42 AM UTC
sitting in my room on this
cold, dark night
I see that we humans,
are all one
and all
brothers
and
sisters
in this
ride
we
call
life
we have been measured throughout time by
the amount at which we separated ourselves
or
how much we overcame that and brought ourselves
together
on this cold, dark night
I have realized that I am
human, we are humanity,
and the whole of our
species is more than
the parts we have
made separate
may my sister rise,
her arts bringing new meaning to the world
may my father rise,
his wisdom sharing with a new generation
may my grandmother rise,
her love fostering that which I believe in
but also
may my brother rise,
even if he is not my blood
your talents are meant to help all of us
may my mother rise,
even if she is not my blood
your wisdom is necessary for my survival
may my grandfather rise,
even if he is not my blood
your love is needed to show the light in
all this black night
may every man and woman and child rise,
for you are needed somewhere,
by someone,
and for your strengths I will love you like my own
even if by all accounts,
we are opposites
We are Humanity
we are the blacks
we are the whites
we are the arabs
the chinese,
and the indians too
we are the austrailians,
and the germans,
the nigerians,
and the brazilians
we are the thinkers
and the builders
we are the helpers
and the leaders
the keepers
and creators
the holy
the unholy
the vague
and the defined
the me
and the you
and the they
and the us
we are all humanity
I sit in this room on this
cold, dark night
and I see that we humans,
are all one
we are all equal
in the end, the
final end
and it must be understood
that I am human, and you
are human, but we together
with everyone else, that
then is when I declare:
We are Humanity
May 2, 2010
May 2, 2010 at 8:15 AM UTC
"Lord, if you be at all, be a blade"
"Dance. Nigerians are not sad."
So I must drown myself in loud music
Move my head to meaningless lyrics
Yet, I am plagued by demons of despair
My mind is caving in around me
And I am a mere spectator, yet
"Dance. Nigerians are never sad"
"Choose to be happy. Is this for attention?"
Yes.
Because I will allow myself this torture
To be haunted by this devil sadness
For a mere few seconds of your life
How grand.
"You have made contracts with water spirits"
I do not like fish or even water on my skin
Yet, this seems like the answer
To the evil darkness that clouds my mind
Turning me inside out
I am ill
Still, they offer ignorance
Cage me for "choosing" to be ill
Lord, if you be at all, be a blade
Slay my demons
Ignorance too
Aug 30, 2016
Aug 30, 2016 at 6:31 PM UTC
Seb's young fertile face beamed African royalty
even in the penury of this Nigerian refugee camp.
Her mother's downcast eyes shunned the camera's querying lens,
while Seb's, "I-love-you", eyes were welcoming.
Seb's eyes were as blossom-petaled obsidian pools,
each pierced by the light of a distant star.
Her blackness did not succumb to woeful displacement,
but shone with the promise of an overcoming spirit;
for a Mother's prayers were writ in the marrow of her bones.
Born with a tenacity to love,
her young heart leaped out through trusting inquisitive eyes.
Her tongue, budding out of rich dark faced soil, seemed eager
to taste the sweet juices that her spirited-eyes promised;
smiling, "l love you", behind barbed wired love-me-nots.
Seb was a child . . . full of joyful expectations.
A child who did not choose this world;
'tho born of a Spirit conceived to love . . .
to love the . . . hell . . . out from her world.
gv 4.2015 Word Hobo
~~~~~~
(Note: This piece came out of seeing this fascinating photograph
by Sebastian Rich, of Seb clinging to her Mother in a camp for displaced Nigerians.)
Link to this Photo of Seb and her Mother:
http://www.abc.net.au/news/2016-04-26/infectious-and-innocent-smiles-from-war-zones/7355958
Scroll down to Ninth Photo
Caption : A Nigerian child in a UNICEF clinic, who was finally on the road to a full recovery after suffering from severe acute malnutrition. Her unprompted smile filled my lens.
I would encourage all to visit the website of Sebastian Rich. His heart-gripping photography is incredibly moving and meaningful.
sabastianrichphotography.com.
Mar 14, 2018
Mar 14, 2018 at 8:23 AM UTC
*is russell brand the presenter on the pointless blog?
i swear it's russel brand! no wait, it's someone
called alfred dyson... ***** the fun out of it
it's still russell brand to me, eating pickles for
he he giggles.*
you know, the only reason i cried when i first
watched the cinematic passion of the christ,
it wasn't the plot and the outline,
i cried when i heard the resurrection of ancient
Aramaic... that got me... it pierced my soul...
so you're living with your parents
because the nigerians and saudi arabs bought
you out of right for home ownership,
and in the background you just hear an i.v.f.
baby argument, a test-tube baby argument damning
you for not enough capitalistic incentive...
herr doctor freud comes in too into the plotline...
and then you turn back and watch russell brand
on the pointless blog discovering sardines in
digestive juices of preservation of sour marbles
in the museum alongside mummies.
*brian molko already did the trans-gender **** me
mascara look without, as the homosexuals already said:
well i did confuse the **** with the ****
but by god i didn't confuse the ******* emblem with
architecture and warring attempts...
brian molko made the girls jealous with his
androgynous appeal... girls got jealous,
pressurised the trans-gender movement to a tic tac toe.*
Mar 6, 2016
Mar 6, 2016 at 6:25 PM UTC
Three Asian women
One e-mail address:
Good call, error window always tennis'
Annual pharmaceutical architecture;
Tel Skrska. Brief description of the New York border Suwanantorio Astronomy maintained. In Belgium, to school,
because it is Vincent Biscuit "Delete". The woman is the dream
of many women. Nigerians malesuada running. I'm flying;
Jersey. Sebastian - grandfather
British NGO Ivory Coast is hiding in the United States.
From behind Yes. Hlutum 1100 heat / code
New Jersey, New Jersey
Diana Yusuf was born 30 minutes ago; But women and young girls,
which is more than 1000 people (1500)
| |
Johnny is π
| |
He died in the place where the body lieth the naked, the longer one of amino great his legs, the mother of the man of the night was the night of the night, of the night, of the night, in the night, the girl of the red of the color of the town day and night, the maids, a girl with gloves and green branches in the time of the queen of the space of the space of the space of the space of the space of the space of the space of Hoshiboshi Art space of the space of the space of the space of the space of the space of the space of the space of the space of the space of the love of the children of the blood, in water, a poet, his back against the green ridges of the warm darkness, the young prince to come, the dream of the child, the gray hairs of Asia, of the aged, yellow, my son Absalom, my son, my son, the prince was of noble birth, my son, my son, to the spirit of the power of eyeglasses the Gauls, the walls of the star dinner drink mode, the star of the baby food, and drinks, and the fallen star of the fuel for the food and I am writing to deliver Of a sweet mystery through the eyes of the Jews violated Russian poet, according to the ninja rich knew autumn nature windows ***** Netsukoe south field Standard Center socks my son absolutely Medusa put into a song to read women's legs daughter language mountain lips of Barbie knowledge of alchemy remember names are waiting for dance in Africa friends, care must be taken to be a madman with his fingers; they smoke Geimira of Asia, the Christians, the mountain of the park the park the prophet feel happy, wet, Marcus Tullius, peace begins: the people, the brain, wave, motion, modern, for example, the knowledge of which it is written, full of the lust of the inside,
Christopher is important to him. Crown of Asia.
Oct 24, 2018
Oct 24, 2018 at 10:41 PM UTC
Speak up
Speak Nigerians,speak for you poses a mouth that heals a nation.
It is in thine voice of thy mouth and thy vibrations on thy body that remedies spring forth.
Speak Nigerians,speak against the calamity that befall your land.
Speak against the hand that hurt thee.
Speak against the innocent blood spilled to please others.
Speak Nigerians in a united tone so your voices can be heard.
Speak to tell your fears.
Speak to make it clear.
Speak to put the nation right.
Speak to put an end to police brutality.
Speak to put an end to misappropriation of funds.
Speak to put an end to intimidation and High-handedness.
Speak to put an end to deteriorating health facilities.
Speak to put an end to weak institutional structures.
Speak to put an end to electoral misconduct.
Speak to put an end to unemployment as a normality
Speak to put an end to poor social amenities
Speak to put an end to injustice
Speak to put an end to oppression
Speak to put an end to sectionalism played by our political elite
We are tired of freedom of speech guaranteed but freedom after speech denied
Arise o compatriot
Arise fellow comrades in the struggle
We clamor vehemently to put and end to bad governance
So our future can be secure
Ojuolape Isaac Mfa
Oct 21, 2020
Oct 21, 2020 at 4:42 PM UTC
Donald Trump has made many quite fussy;
as he did for one actor, named Jussie.
In the end, the abuse
was revealed as fake noose,
two Nigerians, red hats, and one *****
It's so rotten, one almost can smell it
and it's painfully shameful to tell it;
but this fellow named Smollett
reached deep in his wallet.
Some bought it, when he tried to sell it.
Feb 18, 2019
Feb 18, 2019 at 3:11 PM UTC
Have you seen kenya & Malawi??
Nigeria is worst
never should anybody say
we are the giant of Africa
it's a lie , the truth is
we are all failures
Thinking that
we actually succeeded
After independent
it's wrong and we know.
Living only for our pockets,
and
stealing from Nigeria
it's all we try to do
mutual respect, love and peace
will never be
divided
Nigerians
biafra are fighting
fulani herdmen are killing
bokoharam are kidnapping
our country is a war zone.
{NOW READ BOTTOM TO TOP}
.
{c}Joseph.udo
Oct 14, 2018
Oct 14, 2018 at 10:19 AM UTC
Is much different from every other it’s much colder. The atmosphere generally stirs up emotionality in every one
It makes you ,yes you want to be with the opposite ***
Generally taken as a day to exchange gifts
But Nigerians have made it seem like a day when love is made
Which is kind of negative looking at it generally.
But Nigeria is not generally like that with every thing done here.
So I say what can be done to change this.
But I am not against love, love and more love
I generally do enjoy the feeling but excess of all is bad.
It leads to broken relationships homes and finally heart break
Which you would notice (heartbreak) on the 15 of February every year.
So what more can I say I an a boss and a boss I will be
But if we were to go by and by then our daughters
Will continue to be heart broken every 15 of February.
This trend must be stopped by choosing to love
And love truly with all thy heart, body and soul
This I believe will change everything
But I am not saying that if thou holdest you back
From progressing you shalt stay that is why you are the boss
You can either choose to continue or leave
But it must come from the heart
And must be a conscious step towards self realization
This is just the way it has been should not be your words
But understand that changes are there for a reason
So go share thy love.
Oct 16, 2017
Oct 16, 2017 at 3:59 AM UTC
children of death and settlement
by the tired, busy mouth
of the evening;
where the only
art is entering
you squat, bare
in the corner of darkness
suffering and smiling;
searching for the love
of another darkness
there! i mistook you
for a lost shadow, for i let you go
let you go.
before now, i slept
into the is same darkness
waiting to be ferry into tomorrow;
thinking the large body
of retrospect past
is immutable
but can't convince my pen
that the only poetry in nigeria
is her present —messed-up
by the same gone, ageless people
we revered, we have to let them go
let them go.
into the red dark
past nigeria, there
is a labyrinth tree
whose ripe fruits are love
and poetry
but was intentionally
neglected; we let it go, let it go.
looking through this tree
i can see
into the future;
above and beneath —
the ****** hatred
of death and grave's
settlement, that we can't let it go, let it go.
gently —gently and gently
i want to sink the deepest borehole
of poetry
into this tasty period
where the only water is not
only bullets; but
nepotism, tribalism
neglecting naked reality
that brewed the wine that we can't let it go
let it go.
the largest wound
in our hearts
where the past bullets
pierced our comforts
i want to heal it before i let it go, let it go.
i sauntered
through this discomforting pain;
climbing through —
the disagreements
betrayals, backbiting
debaucheries and raw selfishness —
minds who don't want to let it go, let it go
i enter the past
the way good poetry
entered the indolent
through its untied roads and
whispering potholes
with the hope
that not all nigerians are stupid
through this silent
tired, busy mouth
where the only poetry
is entering
you must broad
your search;
night is also an unemployed
graduate, wanting to let to go, let it go.
© umar yogiza jr
abuja, nigeria.
Dec 12, 2018
Dec 12, 2018 at 11:33 PM UTC
Our country was colonized by British
Our resources are rich
We were granted Independence
But exhibit not moral decadence
Leaders call for change
But demonstrate not any change
And engage in social vices
They campaign with derica of rices
Fake promises during campaign by
Construction of road,bridges and all a lie
The voices of citizens not heard and pains not seen
God forgive leaders their sin
We celebrate Nigeria @58
Yet,leaders rule us with hate
They rule for selfish gain
Citizens tackle physical pain
Oh Nigerians! let us all stand up
And flag proudly be raised up
Positive change can happen with PVC
And all will be easy as ABC
Aug 26, 2019
Aug 26, 2019 at 3:23 AM UTC
Betta will once again make Nigerians better than we are, even if the previous minister did not perform well. Furthermore, Betta is better for both present and future.
Dec 3, 2023
Dec 3, 2023 at 6:43 AM UTC
They have provoked her
The giant of Africa
When you stir the bees nest
You must be ready to dance
On the Cobra's tail they stepped
Does actions not beget re-actions?
In a sane society
Where human lives are treasured
Shall we continue like this?
Whose score is it to settle?
Do you want us to count scores?
This is not a battle you can win
Who cursed Africa?
Is this the Africa our fore-fathers fought for?
What really is xenophobia
Brother killing Brothers
But they forgot in a hurry
Are these the people we redeemed?
When a pride of lions are led by a Sheep
This is what you get in return
Disregard for human lives
Until their family is victimised
They enjoy in affluence
While we all suffer in abject penury
I have seen Tigers escape from Buffaloes
They stood as one indivisible entity
To defend their territory
Because enough is enough
We are a people of patience
But don't test the power of Naija
Take the battle to your leaders
Not to fellow Africans
Ask them about their electoral promises
Go to school and get a life
Acquire skills and stay empowered
You've got one more shot at peace
Go back to your history books
Read of our exploits during the world war
Google our feats in Liberia
Have you heard about the spirit of Biafra?
That spirit still lives
The one that makes us stronger as one
Sheathe your swords of xenophobia
"Naija no dey carry last"
I hear the drums of war already
But until the beagle sounds
You have one last chance at peace
Take it, before it's off the table
To our leaders and politicians
Shame on you all
Our blood means nothing to you
Our brothers are sent to Valhala
The house of the Odin God
Our sisters ***** and maimed
Shame on you and your generation
And to you the ignorant fool
You **** your fellow Africans
Forgetting we are all flesh and blood
We share the same ancestors and lineage
This is not the Africa Madiba fought for
Shame on you all!
My fellow Nigerians
I come to you in peace
Let us explore diplomacy
They want to turn us against ourselves
Will we allow them?
"Biko, were Ndidi..."
My hands quiver as I write
My pen drips blood
I fear for my generation yet unborn
I see a revolution brewing
But let us go back to HIM
HE is the God of instant judgmen
Sep 10, 2019
Sep 10, 2019 at 7:09 PM UTC