Category Archives: Poetry

The Poet: Queen Amina

Queen who question audacity
of kings and queueing men
behind her with confidence.

Fighting fearlessly with pride
forwarding with her battalion
forcing and forging ahead to
Kwararafa and Nupe land
to conquered men, restlessly.

Amina, a Zazzau’s warrior
legend of sixteen century,
she has adoration for her
younger sister zaria,
whom her sister’s name
was named the emirate.

Daughter of King Nikatau
the 22nd ruler of Zazzau,
Daughter of Bakwa
Turunku of Zazzau.

She grown up in her
grandfather’s company,
who compassion was
compasses through
carrying her around the
court and learned military
and politics under him.

She is beautiful at sixteen,
have many numbers of suitors
the Makama and Sarkin kano
proposed to her and attempted
to marry her but she resisted
when she was Magajiya
She got forty Kuyanga as gift.

She succeeded her brother
king Karama, lead the Calvary,

She single handed and
expanded the territory of
Habe to the largest borders
in history of Hausa people
of north Africa.

She introduced the farming
of Kalanut in habe’s land
Aminatu, created trade
routes throughout north
Africa, she left the legacy
of Hausa’s fortifications
for security reasons.

Men of Katsina, Kano and
Bornu brought her tribute.

Her war in Bauchi and
other towns in south
and the west waging
towards the shores of
the sea present day
of Niger, a female
with possession of
male capability.

I pledge to Hausa my pride.

By: Comr. Auwal Uba Mustapha

The Poet: When I Die

When I die, never weep,
it wipe my heart, my soul
travels through, oceans.

When I die, I am so weak
my limbs can’t move, I will
be mourned by my loved ones.

When I die, I will be soaring
through the sky, never skip
an inch on my journey.

The world is a transition camp be
calm never qualm, your are on transit.

When the Angel of death visit,
soul shock and shrink in fear
and disapear don’t dispise me,
when I am gone, you will go too.

It’s a journey of no return,
turn to God, pray for respite.

Respect the dead,
when I die, pray for me.

When I die, I can hear your
voices over my dead body,
be kind to me, say good about
me or be mute, I count on you.

When I die, tell them the good
things, they suppose to know
about me, not what you want
them to know about me.

I am once like you, be gentle
over me, when I die, I dim away
within a blink of an eye.

By: Auwal Uba Mustapha

The Poet: ADA, The First Daughter of Valour

ADA is the beauty of the Idoma nation and glory
Smeared with beauty and scars that tells a reflection story.

ADA is blessed with crown of beads
And Love is the emblem of her creed
A thick lips of smiles she shares,

A warm embracing of a dimple she bare
She could sing her mother’s song and dance
That attracts a hive of bees and men for a chance.

And when she bounce from her behind, you wish
You paid her bride price to enjoy her local dish
She is the image of an African queen
The apple on the eyes of a king.

She boast of her green-foothills
And could use styles for her head-ties
Her smiles beams like the full moon
For the sun is her concubine in the noon
Protruding more prettiness of her colour
A first daughter worth a man’s valour.

She is the joy of every mother
The best kind of a sister, that supports the father
Her strength found within her chest.

And her humble pride she wears as a vest
From the little dreams she had in many
And the future walls she is building
from her penny.

You have mocked her from your mannish ego
Still her happiness is drawn from her heart of gold.

The name ADA blows forth a strength
From Ole to every length and breath
In Idomaland, She is a symbol of true passion
Raising dreams of our future generations.

Dedicated to my mum of blessed memory. ADA like no other. I celebrate all the ADA’S.

By: Peter Ekpe

The Poet: Beware of Evil Friend

The evil friend he is devil,
when you see one run away,
so diabolical in nature,

The evil friend never confesses
his plan, he strikes with raid
in rain drops with thunder.

When he wants to destroy you
he never tells you I am
coming to get rid of you.

He sucks your blood,
he is a vampire, the slayer
of what you lay down,

He will make sure you never
breathe, he wishes you are broke
and break in silent.

He is a silent achiever in his
conspiracy without mercy.

You reveal your plan,
he plans to plot against you.

He plunges the fruits
of your hard labour,
he demolishes like Tsunami,
he wishes you are his errand boy forever.

By: Auwal Uba Mustapha

The POET: Marrying A Poetess

Marrying a poetess, is literary
being in the midst of library
of literature, she only knows
how to cook metaphor.

When you are hungry, you go
angry, the only aroma of her
cooking you smell is simile,
from her pot, she will divert
your mind with device.

Your belly will be full of rhyming
stanzas, you develop a potbelly
of poems without having a good
taste of it on your tongue, she
will give you spoken word as tea.

Your morning prayer will become
poetry, she will ride on you like a

You will become her babysitter,
she will be acting like a queen
sitting on her throne.

She will not listen to your voice,
except the echoes from the
calling of her poems.

You and her babies, you have
become objects of inspiration
in her poetry works.

She will kill you in one of her
poems, and resurrect you again.

From the feeling she has in her
dream, she will sometimes describe
you with animals and foods, she might
cook you and eat in her poem.

By: Auwal Uba Mustapha

The Poet: Life Has No Guarantee

Life has no guarantee,
guarantor is the death,

Sleeping is a death for a while,
snoring never guarantee your
awake, even though the day will break,

darkness in the night,
might never gurantee
the coming of the light.

In the morning sunshine might come,
stars will appear in the dark hours,
eye might close.

Sorrow might darken your heart,
river will flow for a while.

I might be nija in the dark,
I am soldier in the day.

Tell me a story for while,
who has never die in a history of a man?

I will tell you, the answer is no!

Only The God of alamin is alone,
He is before the humang race,
He be will at the end, He is the
Only One, that will guarantee all lives.

By: Auwal Uba Mustapha

The Poet: The Taste of Love

I am a player in the game,
I roll her gentling like a ball,
I rob her heart with a love.

I rub her mind with my thought,
I am her daily pill, she wear my
love, on her body like a cream.

She taste my love, she don’t want
to leave, it scent on her skin,
everyone smell it, like a perfume.

Taste of our love it’s so sweet,
I swear we never sweat.

We are so happy, It’s romantic.
Our love story is unique.

Love is sweeter than honey,
We swim in the pool of love.

She crowned me as her king,
I crowned as my queen.

We never quit in our love,
We always listen to our voices
in a quite mood, it’s cool.

By: Auwal Uba Mustapha

The Poet: Lamp Of Hope

When the dark comes,
you will shatter my night,
unleash your present with
envelope of light like twilight.

Lamp of hope, light me the way,
lead me through the dark, hark! me.

I am lost in thoughts, free me from the
freezing cold, my feet are stuck and weak,
it glitters but mirage,
I am in cage for age.

I am overwhelm with cough in my couch,
where I catch the cold,
I can’t recall.

My eyes are wink,
the lamp is wick.
it sparrows around in every corner of the dark.

I see the light of the day,
through the glass of the lamp, mark my word,
there is no light of hope like the path of God.

By: Auwal Uba Mustapha

The Poet: Life of A Comrade

Might’ve been looking great, but I ain’t Ajebota, I came from ‘Average Home’ with negative stories and experiences on today’s struggles.

Ain’t proud, rude or competing with nobody! But radical with confidence, self esteem and determination of changing the whole story.

Gallantly striving all round the clock, for the believe I have in hard works rather than lucks!

The harder I push, the further the dream seems. But I still believe I’ll get there by either running, walking or even crawling!

Loved ones are regretting why I choose to be Comrade, almost the same way friends think it’s a ‘Day Dream’ and a total waste of time.

But to me it’s a ‘Revolutional Mission’ that I’m not prepared to give up, until I open the door for generations to come and prove to them it can be done.

Even if it doesn’t pay off! I’ll not quit or sleep at home! For I rather die on my fits, than to live on my Kneels.

I’ve been Comrade, I’ll always be!
Aluta Continua, Victoria Ascerta!

By: Comrade Hamza Isa Yashi