They can be so much more
if only you let them in
if you show them a world
beyond screens and borrowed dreams.
They are not yahoo boys.
They are survivors of a broken system
running from the weight of waiting
where opportunity hides behind closed doors.
Imagine who they could become
if the field was level
if rules were sacred
and hope wasn’t taxed by corruption.
Nigeria’s potential beats in their hearts
they are the fuel
the spark
the steady hands that could rebuild the nation.
Where am I?
Don't tell me I'm in Nigeria
Did I tell you I want to be born here
Is this wickedness or something.
Where am I?
Why Africa why not the world?
Why subject me to the colonial masters
Why making me a slave to westerners.
Where am I?
Why the world why not Heaven?
Is this mere wickedness or Ignorance?
Why bring me to this hostile world?
Unborn me right now
I prefer peace to war, love over hatred
Acceptance rather than rejection
A world filled with love, peace and harmony.
In Enugu, where coal city dreams rise,
Beneath Nigeria’s sun, under African skies,
Hills whisper tales of Igbo grace,
Ancient spirits dance in this sacred place.
Palm trees sway, red earth hums low,
Nsukka’s wisdom in breezes flow.
Markets pulse with kola nut’s cheer,
Okpa’s warmth draws loved ones near.
From Awhum’s falls, where waters sing,
To Udi’s cliffs, where eagles wing,
Enugu binds the heart with pride,
Nigeria’s soul, where hopes abide.
In Africa’s embrace, her story’s told,
Of Enugu’s light, vibrant and bold,
A land of love, of strength, of song,
Where roots run deep, and dreams belong.
I hear the voice of Nigeria,
The silent whispers drill,
From bustling markets to ancient hills.
Those of the Hausas in the north,
With gentle cadence in stories deeply sown.
Those of the Yorubas in the west,
Vibrant in rhythms and richly manifest.
Those of the Igbos in the east,
Resilient in spirit, never to be ceased.
I hear the voice of Nigeria,
The usual, varied carols blend,
A symphony of tongues that transcend.
The strength in diversity,
A tapestry woven, intricate and free.
An entanglement to commitment,
A nation’s heartbeat, truly heaven sent.
The force of a people, strong and true,
One Nigeria, forever shining through.
In Nigeria's land, where yuletide cheer does fade
A yearly refrain echoes, "Last year was better made"
A curse, it seems, that haunts the present's door
As if the past's sweet memories, forever leave us poor
The cost of food, a constant woe, does rise
A negative trend, that brings tears to sorrowful eyes
Past leaders, revered, as if their wisdom, we can't replace
Does this mean Nigeria's well, of good people, has run dry, and lost its pace?
Should we forever pine, for bygone days of old?
Prefer the past's faded glory, to the present's tale, yet untold?
Fuel and transport costs, a burden, we can't define
Monopoly's grip, so tight, it chokes the poor, and makes them decline
The price of meat, a luxury, few can afford to buy
Yet salaries stagnate, as if frozen, in a bygone sky
Oh, Nigeria, land of promise, when will thy people thrive?
When will the yuletide season, bring joy, and not just a survival to stay alive?
Today, I am sixty-four years young; my spirit sings.
To those who stood for me, I salute and praise,
Your sacrifices and love, forever in my gaze.
To the brave hearts who fought for my independence,
I hail thee; your courage sets me free.
To the fallen heroes and heroines,
Your legacy lives on.
To the present generation, I say:
Treat me better, harness my resources, and make me great.
I have abundant treasures, fortunes to share with love and care.
Let my story be told, my voice be heard;
Manage me better.
Happy birthday.
The moon first came in between the day and night
hanging la, la, la, ......
Vampire's breaches like monster like dragon like Gongola
before?, fula bridge and cambridge and redsea
and a lot more?.
Moo, moo, moo the moon's landlord monsters and
zombies and water ware house wolves whispering and
airing a night hood- moon- ballad.
Once upon a time in Nigeria
Lived a storyteller with a voice like the wind
His parables, like whispers, traveled far and wide
Touching every corner, stirring every mind.
He wrote of a land where the yam was king
Where the ancestors’ drums forever sing.
He told of Okonkwo, fierce and proud
In a village where voices rose clear and loud.
With Things Fall Apart, he tore down the veil
Unveiling truths buried deep in each tale.
He spoke of clashes, of struggle, and pain
Cultures colliding like thunder and rain.
Once upon a time in Nigeria, lived a man
Who awoke a continent, once tightly bound.
Through the pages of history, his voice ascends
A river of stories that flows without end.
In the land of Nigeria, strong and bold,
Super Eagles soar, stories to be told.
To the final they’ve flown, no easy feat,
God’s grace and hard work, a victorious beat.
Nwabali guards, a goalkeeping gem,
Protection’s force, a powerful emblem.
Ekong, a titan, no one dares defy,
In the field, his strength reaches the sky.
As the final whistle nears, in the game,
Remember, you’ve won hearts, fame not just a name.
Winners set examples, be a beacon bright,
In victory or defeat, carry the light.
So, on this pitch, dance with skill and grace,
Nigeria’s cheers echo in every embrace.
A funny twist to the serious art,
Go, Super Eagles, play with a joyful heart!
One Nigeria, my country
I want to talk about the diversity
Do you know about her beauty?
Please don't make it filthy
Let's take up an activity
And show how much we love the country
Nigeria no disaster
Oh God listen to our prayer
Please take this country higher
And make it *much* better
People think we are *in* danger
Not knowing we are truly wiser
Oh God take us higher
And answer our prayers
People say we complain
Not knowing we are plain
Then back in the rain
We worked with pain
On the hand the chain
When they used whip to cane
Feels like we may go insane
Oh God stop the pain
Now am dreaming again
Seeing Nigeria rewarded with gain
Nigerians don't abandon your culture
To make us greater in the future
Our heritage Nigeria to nuture
Through the fire we can still come forth pure
Victories of our great past still in our brain
And we cannot forget the pain
When the whips caused the sprain
May our prayers not be in vain
Though I cannot explain
Why Nigerians are still in pain
And when can we see the gain
Of all they have done becoming vain
Everyday cry and pain
With crime and sprain
Nigeria show what you got
And don't leave a dot.
Here, the word I drop for Travelers “Hark!”
Where offended driver begins to bark:
“Why should you there your Stupid Volvo park?”
The bared teeth of speaker those of a shark;
If he sank them in one’s flesh the same mark,
Now cursing one, next singing like a lark…
Hurry not if destination is Park,
Not the Amusements, I mean: Motor Park!
Where wires of new licensed cars spark,
Your pockets picked while Daylight was still stark,
Fights ignited last until it is dark:
Preachers surface to dwell on Noah’s Ark…
Where one meets with Comedian Passengers,
By their sides Satan’s Soft Messengers…
For thee a tried Nigerian Motor Park,
In which had been displayed Award Gold Plaque…
Once, I was there to check a tall Zaki
And it became reason to meet khaki,
Very clean but most offices tacky:
A cop could turn one into a lackey!
I know The Police is for the Nation
But I shan’t again a Police Station;
A world plainly paramilitary,
Safer, not better than Solitary,
In every station, obvious gyration;
Canteens that could serve one large ration,
The environment is quite sanitary
But should not clinch The Best Commentary…
Where one runs into AK47,
There holders more than Forty Seven:
Men who could catch rogues but their eyes roguish;
A lot of money make but still languish…
No good guarantee of non-harassment,
A chesty cough attracts embarrassment:
A fat envelope and one reports a case;
A much fatter one to clean and face!
The World Cup went to Argentina.
Those who like it still drink Maltina:
In Nigeria, few, for love of France;
If France had won would have done some dance.
I guess Maradona had caused it;
Would have Super Eagles trounced and throat slit:
He was talking about some Six - Nil,
Sure he would not be climbing a hill...
And, since, it's been Football Enmity
One wouldn't guess its enormity
'Twixt Argentina and Nigeria,
Where Football Loss worsens Malaria.
That's Maradona as Muhammad Ali,
Hypes trying and seeking Staunch Ally.
I can't wait for May 29:
On that day Spanish or French wine,
Ready same day Italian shoe;
I'll die for its color: sky blue!
May 29 President goes,
In Nigeria, New Promise flows;
First Citizen 'Just Citizen';
In the North Fulani Denizen...
Yes, President is going home
Straight to his very safe fine foam.
The smiles of a fake achiever;
He knows he could not deliver...
The presidency is a hot seat:
Only few guys can brave the heat:
The Guy I see befriend The Press,
More often than less in white dress;
To Nigeria offering Peace;
He forgets foreheads he did crease!
I myself - Zap! - to some kitchen
Four Thousand for full fried chicken:
I'm marking the end of a farce:
Failed Nigeria given a pass.
Please, remain calm Resident:
Just for the New President...
I can see in his tenure
That farms shall meet rich manure,
Farmers quite huge bags procure,
Less of farm losses incur,
Sick plants and animals free cure
And, first, economy, cure!
So, relax Tense Resident:
You shall have Sweet President...
One who shall fight Man's failure,
Close Office of Sinecure:
Keep saying "Not my tenure!"
Allow to stay: Manicure,
Not embarrass Pedicure,
Orders that their taxing sure,
To not escape same Coiffure...
President for 'The Long Poor'
Not included Roadside Whore;
Against her shall go to war,
Tell her to her face "She's raw"
And her kicking out in store...
Means, therefore, all residents
Need to cheer up dissidents.
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