Wednesday 8 August 2012


HE TRAVAILS OF THE FLINCHING YEARS…CONT’D.
By Opurum Timothy

See, I am never afraid of whatever you want to do to me, king! For we have suffered enough in this community. What have we not been made to undergo in this land; what have you and your evil men not subjected my family to? You accused my mother of being responsible for the death of her own dearly beloved husband and then banished her from this community for which she almost lost her life in the process of fighting for the liberation of the female folks from the dehumanising ordeals which they were subjected to undergo by the land of Aluchie after the conquest of our people long time ago. Whereas, you, and these god-forsaken elders connived with yourselves to terminate the life of an innocent man who, like his wife, fought assiduously against injustice perpetrated by you and the members of your family. Also, after you had murdered him, you, in collaboration with some other members of the community took away the land which he inherited from his father, our late grandfather and shared it amongst yourselves. You all know that his presence in your occult meetings will retard your progress in carrying out your nefarious acts.
Elders of the land, (as he continued, the whole atmosphere was thrown into the stage of emotion. Tears ran through his eyes in a very conspicuous manner. Even some of the elders, having heard his grievances, felt for him. Some shook their heads in sympathy while some others, with guilty minds bowed their heads for the avoidance of having any eye contact with him)he continued, is this what being an elder is all about, witch-hunting people and preying on their god given blessings?”
Nodokwe, having said all that he wanted to say, released the chief he held hostage and fell to the ground, surrendered himself to be arrested by them.
The king ordered the guards to take him away and lock him up in the maximum prison. Without hesitation, Nodokwe followed the guards to the prison where he was detained.
  In the prison custody, Nodokwe was abandoned and made to suffer several deprivations for weeks. No attempt was made to provide him food and water. After so many weeks, he died in the prison. His body was released to the birds of the air to prey on. This is the highest calamity that has ever taken place in the history of the people except in some exception where the deceased died calamitously. To them, it is a taboo in the land to dispose of dead bodies by any other method other than burying the body. This threw a great grave silence in the community. The people were warned strictly never to say anything about this. Parents, guardians and even masters of servants warned their children, wards and servants respectively to desist from passing any comment about the whole situation. They were mandated to keep deaf ears and dumb lips to the whole situation.
 So many years after, the gods which have been said to have gone dead suddenly arose from their many years of slumbering. The anger of the gods has now been vested upon the people. Calamities began to strike. It was as if the world was about to come to an end. So many died mysteriously and those alive were plagued with diverse infirmities. Wailings, sorrows and agonies of the highest magnitude were the contemporary issues. The king became incurably sick. It has been said that his survival is solely dependent of the return of Elokwe back to the land whether dead or alive.  This created a great pandemonium in the community, and a promise was made to anyone who could give any information as to the where about of Elokwe. Great searches were carried out by the warriors in different communities yet she was no where to be found.
Several months later, the king passed on when all efforts concerted by the warriors and many other members of the community proved abortive. The whole community remained in shambles and good life to them is now a thing of the past. “See, I am never afraid of whatever you want to do to me, king! For we have suffered enough in this community. What have we not been made to undergo in this land; what have you and your evil men not subjected my family to? You accused my mother of being responsible for the death of her own dearly beloved husband and then banished her from this community for which she almost lost her life in the process of fighting for the liberation of the female folks from the dehumanising ordeals which they were subjected to undergo by the land of Aluchie after the conquest of our people long time ago. Whereas, you, and these god-forsaken elders connived within yourselves to terminate the life of an innocent man who, like his wife, fought assiduously against injustice perpetrated by you and the members of your family. Also, after you had murdered him, you, in collaboration with some other members of the community, you took away the land which he inherited from his father, our late grandfather and shared it amongst yourselves. You all know that his presence in your occult meetings will retard your progress in carrying out your nefarious acts.
Elders of the land, (as he continued, the whole atmosphere was thrown into the stage of emotion. Tears ran through his eyes in a very conspicuous manner. Even some of the elders, having heard his grievances, felt for him. Some shook their heads in sympathy while some others, with guilty minds bowed their heads for the avoidance of having any eye contact with him)he continued, is this what being an elder is all about, witch-hunting people and preying on their god given blessings?”
Nodokwe, having said all that he wanted to say, released the chief he held hostage and fell to the ground, surrendered himself to be arrested by them.
The king ordered the guards to take him away and lock him up in the maximum prison. Without hesitation, Nodokwe followed the guards to the prison where he was detained.
  In the prison custody, Nodokwe was abandoned and made to suffer several deprivations for weeks. No attempt was made to provide him food and water. After so many weeks, he died in the prison. His body was released to the birds of the air to prey on. This is the highest calamity that has ever taken place in the history of the people except in some exception where the deceased died calamitously. To them, it is a taboo in the land to dispose of dead bodies by any other method other than burying the body. This threw a great grave silence in the community. The people were warned strictly never to say anything about this. Parents, guardians and even masters of servants warned their children, wards and servants respectively to desist from passing any comment about the whole situation. They were mandated to keep deaf ears and dumb lips to the whole situation.
 So many years after, the gods which have been said to have gone dead suddenly arose from their many years of slumbering. The anger of the gods has now been vested upon the people. Calamities began to strike. It was as if the world was about to come to an end. So many died mysteriously and those alive were plagued with diverse infirmities. Wailings, sorrows and agonies of the highest magnitude were the contemporary issues. The king became incurably sick. It has been said that his survival is solely dependent of the return of Elokwe back to the land whether dead or alive.  This created a great pandemonium in the community, and a promise was made to anyone who could give any information as to the where about of Elokwe. Great searches were carried out by the warriors in different communities yet she was nowhere to be found.
Several months later, the king passed on when all efforts concerted by the warriors and many other members of the community proved abortive. The whole community remained in shambles and good life to them is now a thing of the past.


A Very Short Poem On Lies

LIES
I tell it every now and then,
-Just to get out of a trouble and get back into another

The more lies I throw in, the more trouble I get into
The more the trouble in find myself, the more lies I throw in.

Why lie? When I could just say the truth,
-Say the truth and face the shame?

Should I just cover the shame and live in it?
Knowing we all tell lies, knowingly or not.

Fagbesa Olawale
walexybaba@gmail.com
2348029872229

THE HARD LIFE Part 1(a short story) by Adebayo Caleb


 The velocity of the slap that greeted her cheeks awakened her to the reality of the situation. She winced and tried to shield herself from any other disciples of the just received slap. She knew he would apologise tomorrow when the effect had left him. She was used to it.
Sitting on the chair in the verandah of their posh three- bedroom bungalow two weeks later,Doris reflected another incident that had happened yesterday.He had beat her beyond recognition.She now massaged her face.To imagine that he had come to apologise this morning.This thing was really taking control of him, but he's a nice guy normally, she thought.She had tried her utmost best to be good,to please him, but when he was under,he was a beast. He listened to no explanations and beat her for no tangible reason. She could stop him, she could go into his closet and seize all those hard drugs,but it would kill him, she thought, and she loved him. He would be a helpless morsel without those drugs.She had seen an addict needing a hit before. They seemed like asthmatic patients at such a time.He would die without it and when he realised what she had done, he'll kill her, meanwhile he'll have figured out some other way to take his hit.
He drove into the garage that very minute and Doris waited for him to come in.Respectable and good- looking,with his tuxedo slung over his left arm, and his suitcase on his hand, he walked towards her,his body shuddering,almost to a shiver, she noticed.There could be no other cause for that than that he needed a hit. He barely noticed her presence at the verandah, but rushed inside and into the bedroom where he spent about fifteen minutes.When he came out, he looked like a dog that had just been fed dog biscuits.It was then that he noticed Doris, his wife.
'Doris, where's my food?'
'I'll go heat it up now, hon' Doris answered as sweetly as possible.
While the food heated in the microwave, he asked
'What did you cook?'
'Your favorite; ofe nsala and starch'
'How many times, Doris',His voice rose'How many times have I told you that once it begins to get to ten pm,you change my dinner to light meal?'
Doris' expression changed 'I'm so sorry,hon.I...I really didn't know...'
'Get that food out of there' his voice bellowed
'But honey...'
He stood up and advanced towards her.The first attempt he made towards her face was tactfully dodged.The second one got her left cheek and burned it.She heard him say some words 'You always make me angry...'
Something went off inside her and she adjusted her frame and began throwing words back at him
'Enough of this, Dave,enough of this nonsense.I know this is not you.You are under the influence of those hard drugs and I can't take this nonsense from you anymore.You've got to stop!'
She said the words so fast, and good enough because those were the last words she said that day.
....TO BE CONTD

Love

Love

Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but of angels have not love, for all I have become is mere sounding brass or a changing cymbal.
Though I have the gift of prophecy and understand all mysteries and knowledge, though I have all the faith, as I move mountains with it, but with no love, I am nothing.

Though I bestow all my goods to fed the poor and give my body to be burned and have no love, it profits nothing.
Love suffers long and is kind.
Love does not envy.
Love doesn’t parade itself and not puffed up.
And love definitely has noting to do with nudity.

Love does not rejoice in iniquity but in truth
Love bears all things
Love believes all, hopes all things and endures all.

Info
 Written by; Olanisebe Folshade Bunmi & Fagbesa olawale
Originally Written for Student Pathfinder All star collection

Nature...........

I lie with Nature deprived of that which keeps me ticking like a household clock,
Yet the nervy veins crowding my body with a block,
Like a pullulating anthill of termites quivers beneath my skin,
And burns fiery hot like a kiln.
What ails me I know not,
Yet with a strive I will push forth,
Until the peace ebbing away from my bones like a fleeing ghost,
Is caged to abide with the data of my life in its bonded host.
I stray nigh and sunder restive like a milipede's ample feet,
Yet I am enlivened with a from from an inconspicuous fleet,
I perambulate with a visage prudent,
Yet I am prone to tongues of sweat forming welts on my dessicated skin,
The fabled golden trident that holes my fear I shall grind to powder,
For then only can the groans absent my belaboured groins like a giant brick severed from a moulder.
Voices ringing in my ears are dubious,
Yet endeavour to make message obvious,
They clang with a rhythm of a thousand war bells,
Yet I thrive as they make my soul inert with spells,
For I blind mind to their prying inklings,
And flee in thought like a bird devoid of siblings.
Like a skewered animal sedated for a ritual,
I am ferried across the barns of life absent an aiding visual,
I have no say or will to stray,
And to do as wished has vanished into the wind gray,
Yet stripped of an enforcing will,
We, saddled with a resilience till,
And clothed with mails of despair,
We, girdled with belts of zeal still fare.
I will whisper until I am ridden of breath,
And against you I'll campaign until stripped of wealth,
You might say I am of no strength,

Or I am devoid of a mind stealth,
Yet I can not becloud sight with your pervasive stench of vice,
For you eat away at us like a million of rampaging mice,
With a mission to loot and plunder us,
And cart away the gold in our purse.
Lease me to evangelise your extravagance,
And I will rid your slaves of the chains laced with drowning ignorance,
And give them their chests of inherited money,
You carved for yourselves as share from their deserved combs of honey

Written by Alawode Tosin

Boot Camp

Thudding footfalls, menacing looks
Torture under these jackboots
 All night long till the owl hoots
The camp is filled with restive youths

Restlessly, till day breaks
Crawling around camp like green snakes
So much hurry, at a great pace
To outrun another in the boot race

Recruits, we train at four tomorrow
And yet tonight a vigil will follow
If you don't have time enough,then borrow
If not, you'll leave through road one in sorrow

The task of graduating is like torture
Like slaves who will never have a future
For fifteen years I've been studying to graduate in architecture
But this boot camp has hindered my departure


The above poem titled' Boot Camp' is a poem that tries to portray the realities of the campus and higher education where everybody is struggling to win their fellows in the 'boot race'. The experience of campus is compared to a boot camp filled with torture.


The poem was written by Adebayo Caleb