(A Lament in the Tongue of Empire) Chorus (whispered, rising):Resign now, Traoré…You’ve done too much good. ⸻ VOICE OF THE WEST:Resign now, Traoré!You’ve upset the order!You’ve stirred the soup without our spoon! You—child of Sankara,nephew of Nkrumah,heir of the drum that dares to beat against silence! We sent aid in envelopeslined with fine print and trap doors—you returned it…
(A Poetic Declaration of the Institute of the Episterresurrecist Arts (IEA) Mother,I have changed my name!No longer shall I answerTo “Renaissance Remnant,”Or “Revival Seedling” of borrowed tongues. I am notA footnote in Europe’s chapter!I am notA festival puppet with Ankara skinDancing to Shakespeare’s tambourine! No!I am the drum they tried to muteWith white chalk and infested libraries!I am the…
(In the voice of a lamenting Prophet) Where are my sons in suits?Where are the daughters in wrappers of sorrow?Where are the women with wombs of pain,The men with dreams leaking through torn pockets? Where are the midnight wailers?The miracle seekers?The tithers of last kobo?The sowers of rent money? Where are the prayer requests? Ah!They have vanished like demons…
Pastor packed his anointing in a Ghana-Must-Go!He stamped his passport with holy oil,And flew to Toronto,To plant revivalAmong the snow and silence. But in Canada,Nobody fell down when he shouted “Fire!”They just checked the smoke alarm.And went back to sipping coffee. In Norway,He tried to declare “Receive your car!”But they already had busesThat came every ten minutesWith heaters,With soft…
— For the goat beneath the kola tree — Come, NomaEat well.This cassava peel is sweeter than yesterday’s.Yes, I see the way your ears flick.You understand more than you let on. I remember when you were small,legs like broomsticks,chasing shadows across the compound.Now look your beard carries the wisdom of old drums. You’ve heard enough stories,sitting by my feet…
— for my dear Etop Precious Iniobong — Monsieur le Paka-paka-paka, twenty boys,barefoot,chased a ballthrough dust and dusk. They shared breath,shared salt,shared spit,shared bruises,shared breadshared the suninside their laughter. But time…time grew teeth. One found war.One found work.One found wealth.One joined the army.One boarded a bus.One forgot his name.One buried another.One wandered offnever returned.Others?Forgotten! Now the ball lies stillin…
(A Classroom Tragedy in Three Chuckles) “Class!” the teacher barked,chalk dancing like white ants.“Who can tell mewhat is Nigeria?” Silence.Silence.More silence. Then courage crept in. One boy rosehis uniform tornlike national unity,chest puffedlike he swallowed a drum,and with the voiceof his hero, Professor Wole Soyinka,he began: “Nigeria is a sandwichwearing rubber slippers,climbing Mount Kilimanjaroto buy akarawith expired SIM card!…
I was seven…seven…just seven A seed…not yet called sapling. She,a cousintwice ripenedbreasts like twin orangesstraining thin cloth,hips like two drumsbeating beneath her wrapper. She said:“Let me show youhow fire sleepsin a woman’s belly.” I was a lambtethered to her whisper.I was a drumshe beatbehind shut doors.She said the bloodtrapped,mapping my buttocks,pulsed her budawake,called the wet godfrombetween her thighs. I…
— for all the priests with passwords to the afterlife — Uncle Priest came again today…His staff rattling louder than common sense.He wiped his mouth,Licked his lipsLike a lizard before prophecyAnd said: “Your father is stranded…At the border between Ogbomoshoand the Underworld!” “What happened?” we asked. He looked around…Lowered his voiceLike a goat in laborand whispered: “He has no…
Veteran journalist and former National Secretary of the Nigerian Union of Journalists (NUJ), Pa Jola Ogunlusi, has passed away at the age of 91. A respected figure in Nigeria’s media industry, Ogunlusi served the NUJ with distinction and contributed significantly to journalism in his lifetime. Responding to the news, veteran labour leader, Comrade Owei Lakemfa wrote: Comrade Jola Ogunlusi…
What happens when you challenge the establishment?…
The Great Delusion invites you into a…
(A Lament in the Tongue of Empire)…
(A Poetic Declaration of the Institute of…
