Tag Archives: Poetry

ABUM NWAFOR BIAFRA (A poem inspired by the book #SectorIV

Sometime last year, I got a DM from @dictrace. We had met for the for the second time at the #GrillandRead book party. I will be sharing his DM with you, with hs permission of course and I hope you enjoy it toošŸ˜ƒ 

 I just finished your book SECTOR IV and it inspired some writing, I’m a closet writer (I write for my own consumption) but I thought I should share this with you…


I believe in the land called Biafra

I believe in the people of Biafra

I believe in the spirit of Biafra

I believe in the Diplomacy of Zik

The Dexterity of China

The Ferociousness of Kaduna Nzeogwu

The Courage of Ojukwu

Nwannem Abum Nwafor Biafra
I love the Calmness of Enugu 

A town akin to that talked about by the Messiah

Indeed it is set upon a hill

And enveloped by nature

Oh! What a city to behold

I’m in love with it’s industrious people

The serenity of its environs

The language of it’s people

Oh! What a song to behold

Imana Abum Nwafor Biafra
I love Rivers State

A land laced with aquatic splendour

A land where I have found a home

This land is the reason I can dream

I love the pride of the Kalabari’s

I love no nonsense Ikwerre man

And identify with the struggle of the Ogoni’s

This land is indeed the treasure base of Nigeria

Yet its people carry on in poverty

No wonder they avenge

Nwannem Abum  Nwafor Biafra
Sadly I hear cries of death in my beloved Biafra

Sounds of war, though distant but near

These sound are carried by waves 

By the people who claim to love my beloved

I hate to think these sound would envelop my beloved in no distant time

I hate to think that destruction may abound
Have we not learnt

From Stories

Stories told, though not by moonlight

We cannot yearn for more destruction

Have we not learnt from 3 years of Destruction

Nwokem idi sure na I bu Nwafor Biafra
Remember Aleppo?

The once bubbling city brought to rubbles

You want an Aleppo in Biafra


My Enugu would not be brought to rubbles

Our garden in Port Harcourt shall not be turned to death fields

We shall resist the calls for War

We shall rather jawjaw

Jawjaw that our Biafra may remain 


Abum Nwafor Biafra…


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Posted by on January 7, 2017 in Poetry


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Who am I?


Who am I?Ā 
I ask each day as I
Rise and hear the morning cry
And IĀ 
Get ready to start the day

Who am IĀ 
The question returns as IĀ 
Lay in bed hearing the muezzin cry
And IĀ 
Get set to end the day

Who am IĀ 
The question recurringĀ 
In my head
As I tread
The path many like me have trod
Trying not to be so slipshod

Who am IĀ 
The search continuesĀ 
Each day
Every day
Looking in corners and cranniesĀ 
Hoping to find in each crevice

Who am IĀ 
Maybe if I stop probbing
Perhaps if I stop prodding
And look in the mirrorĀ 
Then maybe I’ll find
The me I should be

I’m lostĀ 
In this great universal space
Trying to run my own race
Trying not to end up in disgrace
Hoping on me God will shine his grace
Believing I can seek his face

I’m lost
Sinking deeper into earth’s crust
Trying not to return to dust
Trying to be that which I mustĀ 
Hoping that the God of the just
Can see I never exchanged love for lust

And then just when I thought
I have looked everywhere I ought
A new door is opened to me
And what do I see, free?Ā 
Set free by the undeserved kindness of our Lord and the Father of our Lord,Ā  Jesus Christ.
And I ask who am I no more
CosĀ  I.Ā  Found.Ā  Me.

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Posted by on January 17, 2016 in Poetry


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My Looter is Better than your Looter

My looter is better than your looter
My looter is in Abuja
He drives big cars
And has the ears of the Messaih
He is in the party of winners
And so has no case to answer

My looter is better than your looter
What did your looter do when he was in power?
He did not recognise the yoots
And we the influencers
We chased him out
With the help of Twitterers

My looter is better than your looter
Stop with these chants of Aluta
No matter how often you gather
At Unity Fountain or crowds you garner
We can’t still be compared to each other
Cos my looter is better than your looter


Posted by on December 10, 2015 in Poetry


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Who has done this thing?

Boom! The bomb goes
Screams all around echoes
Man,  woman,  boy and girl in pain’s throes
Condemnation from one and all rolls

Who has done this thing?
The question continues to ring
The white will blame the darker skin
Profiling has become king

It’s the Muslims, those terrorists
Such generalisation who can resist?
But if in this path we do persist
We might as well settle all scores with our firsts.

People are terrorists.  Terrorists are people
Tribe and tongue may not resemble
but they serve in one temple,
Religion steeped in same principle
Their quest to bedevil
Society with one affliction, 
their mission
to call attention
to their commission
Of atrocities instigating fear, terror

So when you are asked
How do we terrorists unmask?
In ignorance do not  bask
Give your self this one task
Say: People become terrorists
Terrorists are people


Posted by on November 14, 2015 in Poetry


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I do not have answers…

I do not have answers,  only questions.
Questions,  to draw out intentions
Questions to show correlations
Questions that birth suggestions
Questions that precede revelations
Questions,  forcing recollections
Questions that bar all restrictions
Questions that break inhibitions
Questions masquerading as temptations
Questions leading to transformations
Questions generating palpitations
I have no answers,  only questions

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Posted by on November 10, 2015 in General


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Wrote this in a whim while browsing through a Facebook page where poets share their craft.


What do you think?

Please do use the comments section.

1 Comment

Posted by on September 5, 2015 in Poetry


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Here and Now

I look back and reflect
My mind dwells on what could have been
I regurgitate the thoughts, ruminating
On the life we could have had
A world we could have lived and relived

I look forward and predict
My mind dwells on what will be
I recreate the thoughts, meditating
On the life we are yet to have
A world we are yet to live and relive

And somewhere in the midst of my yesterday and tomorrow
A today emerges where I have my here and now
I embrace it and to myself make a vow
That my past and future to today will bow


Posted by on March 16, 2014 in Poetry


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