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BLAME

BLAME
For all her predicaments from colonial era she blames,
But not a thought in retrospect on the humiliating nature of her kings,
She blames the far West and the Far East for her ordeals,
Hum, she was beclouded by her own hypocrisy in fantasy.

Little do her children consider the war within her walls,
An unending conflicts among her offspring for superiority,
Long before the adventurism of the white world,
She sold her own children as common commodities, yet she blames.

Ask the Oyos how she sold the Dahomey to the Portuguese for ephemera,
Let the Zulus give an account of her stewardship of how she dealt with the Bantus,
Kanem-bornu, Mai, Ashantis, Wagadu, Takrur, Malinke, Songhai, Hausa, Benin, Fulanis, Cushites
Nilotics, all killed and enslaved one another for pride, yet she ceased not to blame.

She betrays her own tongue yet she claims her voice was silenced,
She places less value on her own sons, yet she cries for being marginalized,
Among the committees of nations she speaks from the two sides of her own chick,
She bowls in secret to the order of the white wizard, yet she stops not to blame same in public.

There are few of her sons that crossed her streets a while ago,
Never will history forgets the cry for internal justice of Gamel, Selassie, Nkruma, Garvey, Nyerere,
Diop, Lumumba, Azikwe, Toure, Kenyatta, Sankara; she betrayed each of them to death,
She splashed their bloods on her walls, yet she blames a distant folk for her own dark heart.

She makes herself an available prey for the western predators,
Her walls of defense has she made vulnerable even to a lesser than a state in the Middle East,
She prodigally opens her treasure house to the Chinese and the Japanese to exploit,
Yet she blames all and sundry for her own presumptuous recklessness.

Ask her, please let her answer,
Was she the only one that was colonized?
Kingdoms rise and fall, but no sane kingdom remains in the corridor of pitiable self-humiliation,
Even the Arabians and Asian tigers have moved on, while she still lament in woes to blame.

Tell her prophets to change the rhythms of their anthems,
Casting aspersions and blames on the west is not the way up,
Let her priests know of her infectious whoredom around the globe,
Her kings and her princes have shared her body in exchange for superfluity of nothingness.

She romances and kisses other cultures and civilization,
While other folk garnished their culture with spices of trending technologies,
She continues as a wailer trembling under her own shadows of self-intimidation,
Her teachers are blamers of less intuition for growth.

Her emperors are callous and bloody on her thrones,
Wealth they spread in the hidden corners of Paris and Dubai,
She is impoverished yet her gold swims across the waters,
To decorates the alien’s cities, yet the blames.

Things fall apart in her balcony, not by accident,
Her walls are dilapidated yet she careless,
Her children are subject to ridicule within and without,
So deaf she is to her offspring cries, but not dumb to blame.
Hunger in the tommy, hunger in the mind, hunger everywhere,
Sahara and Kalahari left with the bones of her famished children,
With all these green forests on the path of Congo and her land that kisses the waters,
She has no food for her dying wards, but has all time to blame the invincible.

She is the second to the biggest yet she begs for crumbs from the smallest,
Since Ukraine can no longer supply her wheat as usual, she cringes under the yoke of hunger,
For how long is she going to depend on smaller folks for survival?
How long will she neglect her fertile vast land and stop to blame.

Nature has been so generous to her, yet she blames even the Creator for her own ordeals,
She romances the sun than others, yet her streets are darker than the belly of the sea,
Her land is impregnated with treasures untold, yet she begs for arms,
How long will it take her to realize her own potentials and stop to blame?

Let her look inward,
An unbroken wall provides no channel for hospitality to a lizard,
Her walls of respect for humanity are broken,
Hence the penetration of an opportunist white lizard, yet she blames.

Wake from your sleeping mind oh woman,
Chastise your prodigal kings with hot irons,
Bring their wondering minds back home to the soil
Lest you blame and blame till the cock crow.

The call for unified continental unity on her mind,
Which of your nations is internally unified,
Ethno-religious crisis in Nigeria, Kenya and the rest,
An unsettled home begat unsettled nation and continent alike.
Should Ethiopia maintain the capital of your propose unifier,
Won’t Egypt, Botswana, Madagascar or Senegal chant a foul play?
Smaller ECOWAS has failed to reach her goal, after forty-eight years of her birth,
Yet you think of making a mirage a reality? Think before you raise a dust to blame.

Enough is enough, Africa!
Pains, tears and hunger we no longer can bear,
Worst leadership in the entire human clan, we no longer can endure,
Call your princes to order before the fall of your hunchback.

Harness the potentials of Sahara, Namibia and Kalahari to light your dark streets,
Engage Nile, Niger, Congo, Orange and Limpopo in a life-long productive assignment,
Let the vast savanna be active for internal growth and development of your offspring,
And your sons and daughters be bread and nurtured at your corridors.

Despise not your colour for therein lies your strength,
Learn from others to replicate goodies on your soil,
Select the morally sounds of your sons to mount your thrones,
Cause your princes to serve with caution and sincerity of mind.

Then talk of unity when the bustards are tied,
Unity is sweet when your prodigal sons are tamed,
Peaceful coexistence becomes feasible when your children rest at your bosom,
No outward looker, no blaming of others.

Blame less, act fast for your liberty is now,
Stop the iron teeth of the Chinese before they bite harder,
Trade with the west as partner and not as slave,
Blame less, act fast, the clock ticks.

Sunset at Dawn

We all woke up in hope of the new dawn,

Never were we told of an impending agony,

It was a promise of water in the basket,

Vail of tribal enthusiasm beclouds the sights of many.

The chants of “EMILOKAN” pervaded the air,

As thoughtless youths uphold an empty mandate,

Though not without temporary pleasures of moneybags,

But not too far from the dilemma untold.

It was a tale of him that went to shop for good governance,

But ended up buying a crazy machinery of governance,

Rather than getting a presupposed democracy.

Worse than the carnivores are the throne bearers,

In billions of black gold they lavish our Commonwealth,

Borrowing around the world to complete a white elephant project,

Yet none of the projects were visible to human eyes,

While the masses languish in abject penury,

Hunger knows no tribe nor race,

Even the working class can no longer meet the basic needs.

As men and women in their homeland become liabilities on those in the diaspora,

“Bros send me some Pennies/Cents to eat”

As many become sophisticated beggars.

Our dignity of labour now turns out to be the dilemma of labour,

Just as the economic policy of a bad government takes its toll on all.

Now that the breeze has blown to reveal the hidden anus of the eagle,

The deception of our political gladiators is visible on the world street,

No longer could their empty promises hold trust,

Hungry youths are scattered on the city streets crying for help.

Kenyan youths were only a litmus test of protest,

Nigerian youths’ protest was a prototype with a damnable outcome,

As innocent citizens were shot with life ammunition by government agents,

And tens of them were sent to their early graves.

Is it not too early to have a governance as bad as this in less than 18 months into new administration?

Was the rhetoric of regret in the mouths of many of the “PRO-EMILOKAN”!

Ten Days of protest against bad governance is counting,

The body language of the government looks so glooming,

It’s indeed sunset at dawn,

Better than this demonstration of crazy politicians is a military regime,

“Give us soldiers” ! Is the demand of our brothers in the north,

While men in the south are confused between restructuring and secession,

Never would I bow for the former,

It’s better we pitch our fate between restructuring and secession.

Night falls at dawn in Nigeria,

As the mourners assume duties for the lives lost in the struggle.

While we hope in hopelessness,

We pray for the wind of bloodless revolution,

To sweep off our heartless leaders,

To an abyss of no return.

Nigerians wail!

As sunset at dawn!

AFRICA SAYS NO TO BAD GOVERNANCE!!

ABIOGBA, O.A. (2024).

REFLECTION!

The reality of life crows,

It’s echoes filled the belly of the dawn

Never a life lived longer,

Than the chilly rode of death.

Only if men can reason aright,

That every actions are weighed

On the balances, and no time for

Correction at the corridors of death.

Men may pray for the dead,

But no prayer can suffice eternal

retribution,

“It is laid down once for man to die,

And after this, judgement follows”.

Every sinful act is a disaster,

Either to oneself or another fellow,

Your power and position today are

Just privileges,

It is eternally damnable to misuse it.

While wisdom still cries in the early hours,

And caution cares kindly and comely,

Never exhaust the oil of grace in vanity,

“the soul that sinneth shall die”

To the leaders and the led I write,

No passage of blame before eternal Judge,

Sins begotten by sin will be judged,

All will take responsibility at the

pearly gate,

Though life seems tough on this side,

As men eat men as famine tarries longer,

Never will any evil be justified,

Adversity is the only litmus test to

Ascertain the genuity of our faith.

To the good ones, wisdom says carryon,

To the bad ones, wisdom still plead

With caution,

Sooner ours will be a tale of a shadow,

“We will only be remembered by

What we have done.”

ABIOGBA, O.A. @2024.

THE PITIABLE STATE OF A STATELESS STATE!

How could I walk down the street, where tears and pains rule with fierce anger,

How could I preach the gospel of peace, where hunger and anger stand with dagger.

Death is quite more sincere than our leaders, for it takes no bride to abate it’s actions, but our leaders are not so.

Profligate leaders with impunity have no mercy, they are tools of terror and weapons of mass destruction.

Sensitivity to true state of the nation has no place in their thoughts, they gallivant from coast to coast enjoying the bliss of sane countries across the globe, while their own country is on fire.

the hypocrisy of government and their allies have crippled  the collectivism of the general public.

A country with three none functional refineries for more than two decades, what do we expect from such nation?

a nation whose government claimed the daily theft of over 90% of crude oil extraction via waterways, and none has been apprehended publicly, what do you expect from such nation?

A nation whose high rank political office holders have Private refineries outside the shores of their country, how do you expect the nation to strengthen her internal economy?

A nation whose leader purposely devalued the local currency for no reasonable national interest, to what extent can we take her serious?

A nation whose leader daily steals humongous amount of money in billions with impunity from the public funds, how on earth can you admonish her youths on the path of integrity.

A nation whose leader chooses to be relaxed somewhere in the palaces of paris (France) while his country is on fire!
What do you expect from the citizenry of such nation?


Great leaders lead by example, bad leaders also have a way of impacting negativity into their citizenry.

The present despicable situation of Nigeria does not come as a sudden event, it is as a result of political lies, falsehood and political inconsistent will of our profligate leaders in the recent time.

The willingness to build a great nation can only be championed, encouraged and closely monitored by the leader, not in the other way round.


Though a leader is the product of the citizenry, a changed leader has the character tools to compel the citizenry to walk on the right path of transparent selflessness and crystal integrity.

Ours is a stateless state, where leaders are gods of laws and citizens are slaves to law.

My country Nigeria needs help, the deep besides our cliff is frightening!

ABIOGBA O.A. @2024.

FREEWAY BILLBOARD!

If you had a freeway billboard, what would it say?

Give us a word of peace then a world of peace will emerge!

Our ideologies might differ, but no good ideology betrays peace!

When peace is enforced by an instrument of coercion, an inevitable conflict lies in ambush!

Peace has no ambiguous cost!

We can have peace when all hands come clean!

War has no path to peace!

True peace is without conflicts!

Where there is love for humanity, peace reigns with humanity!

An antidote to peace lies with leadership with no sincerity!

Political ambition does not worth a drop of blood of another man!

Policy that instigates men against men is not better than fascism and Nazism!

The value of peace is appreciated when the life of every man is valued!

Choose any of the above for your freeway billboard,

As we all pray for a world of peace and tranquility!

SELFLESS LOVE

What is the greatest gift someone could give you?

He is the author of life yet He gave up His own life,

He rules in the heavenlies yet He condescend to mortality,

Himself and His father chose to save mankind from an inevitable perdition,

Out of agape love, He surrendered His life for the salvation of all.

“for God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son,

that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish,

but have an everlasting life”.

What a gift can be greater than this,

That a man should give His life to save His friends,

The love of Jesus for humans knows no bounds,

He did not only died for my sins, He saved me from the powers of sin,

Just the way He has saved many, and still saving as many that will believe in Him.

He has likewise gone to heaven to prepare a place for me

That where He is, we might be also.

A love that transcends mortality, is a definite love

No any other gift can be greater than His selfless love…

COLLEGE

What colleges have you attended?

A tender little mind with optimism,

Hoping to win the world by going to college,

On the last cadre of high school,

We all aim at gaining admission to the best of our local colleges,

Not because we so much appreciated studies,

But because we have been indoctrinated

that going to college earns us the treasure island,

Where wealth is magical and fortune is automatic,

We have not a thought for skill acquisition,

All we wanted was a certificate upon graduation,

Little did we knew that the reality of our world varies from just a certificate earn from college,

So I joined the wagons of admission seekers,

After much attempt in the space of five years,

I got admitted into Obafemi Awolowo University,

Just to study Geography Education,

Four years course was soon ended,

Yet the quest for higher certificate kept increasing,

Then I picked up a masters program in University of Ibadan,

Sooner than expected, a master degree was added to my certification,

Yet without any skill acquisition apart from college certificates.

The reality is here,

The world is practically not for paper certification carriers

Only the sharp ones with desirable skills found the treasure island,

As against our indoctrination in the age of dark orientation.

With all our college certificates,

Here we are struggling to get the crumbs,

Employers need skills not paper,

Colleges are good and fine with philosophical thoughts,

But they will be better when sellable skills are added to thoughts and philosophies,

Just few percent of Harvard graduates could locate the treasure island,

Graduates of London business school are not all business tycoons,

Name and prestige of our colleges could not afford us our desired luxuries,

Just a sellable skill outside the confine of our colleges can give us more.

Our world is no more confined in the four corners of a classroom,

Our world seeks opportunities even on a dunghill,

Where waste materials can be transformed into useable.

The name of my college matters less,

The productivity of the skills acquired makes fortune.

I suggest a modification of curriculum,

To give an allowance for basic and technical skill acquisition,

That our graduates will be skillfully seasoned,

And our streets will be less of job seekers.

Especially to my local world in Africa,

Where college certificates have little or no place in the labour world.

THE COST OF GAS

We live as ingrates as we toil on daily,

Never could anyone negotiate with nature,

The cost of our breathing gas,

Neither has it been measured for the free man on the street,

Yet no one cares about the cost of gas.

In billions we are scattered on the face of the earth,

Free gas for everyone to daily inhale,

We know no value of the measureless gas,

Yet no one seems to ask what the cost is.

Not until Mr. Somebody lies helpless in the ICU,

When his lungs could not tap from the free gas as others do,

The only means of survival is to buy the measured gas,

As human gadget aids his respiration,

Twenty-four hours gone past before his stability,

He could breathe now without the aid of a respiratory machine,

Then the doctor gave him a bill,

Just a ten thousand dollars for the gas

that was provided to sustain his life.

In tears he looked at the doctor,

Not because he couldn’t afford the bill,

(Of course, he is a very wealthy man),

The doctor inquire from him why the tears,

“I am seventy-four years old, all this while,

I have enjoyed the free breathing gas,

I had never taken any thought to ask,

About the cost of the gas I daily inhale,

Just in twenty-four hours, I have to pay ten thousand dollars,

If I were to pay for the ones I have inhaled in seventy-four years,

I would be dead by now.”

As Mr. Somebody muttered those words,

Rivers of water flow down his checks .

The story of Mr. Somebody sounds so casual,

But any of us could be in that situation,

As a matter of fact, many lie helplessly in the hospital,

Gasping for gas to live,

Many are paying millions of dollars to get what seems worthless to common healthy man on the street,

Can we just purse for a while,

To count the cost of our daily gas,

Should it be ceased for just a minute,

Billions will be laid in six feet below.

What is the cost of our breathing gas?

Could anyone out there quantify it with a price tag?

I guess none could get that done.

To the Creator of the universe,

To the Author of nature,

To the Almighty God who has fashioned the earth and it’s life supporting nature,

I am not ungrateful,

I know not the cost of the gas I breathe,

Even if I know, could I have ever afford paying for it?

Just for this reason oh God of all flesh,

I have come to appreciate your benevolence,

For giving me priceless fortune daily,

As I inhale freely without a cost.

As you read this lines of mine,

I guess you are also appreciating God,

For the free fortune of life you inhale freely.

Could you have ever afford the cost, if we all must pay for it?

SCARCELY

Do you play in your daily life? What says “playtime” to you?

playtime often scarce when goals is several yards away,

A resolute mind is never amused though the world goes for game,

Especially in this part of the globe where the violent takes his right by force.

May be once in a blue moon when the mind seems satisfied,

Then the body is served with a plate of amusement and a jolly cut.

But daily playtime, no way!

We struggle for basic need down here,

Hungry belly never play,

Thirsty throat never smile,

Bills are not paid by the amusement on the beach,

Playtime is just an annual visitor that journey with summer break,

After annual break, it goes back to “who knows where”!

Never a daily playtime for a kangaroo pursued by a pride of lion.

I doubt it’s existence down here.

NOTHING ELSE !

What makes you feel nostalgic?

The cost of appealing to my pen to wake from deep sleep

Pleading to have him back at his full potential,

That he might paint the marbles with a touch of sapphire and onyx,

And the paling walls of words might be reinvigorated,

As the downcasts find some words of hope with courage to run more.

Can the world around plead with my pen to wake from his deep sleep,

Almost two moons have gone with time, and my pen is yet to wake.

Nothing else can make me to be more nostalgic,

Than to see my pen alive once more!

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