The sky falls rain The rainbow rumbles it, The sun shines the day,
The moon shines the night, mood has changed my dawn, the stars blink my eyes. my star has left me, tears flow down to my cheeks.
Memories of my late dad haunt me in the hood, we miss him.
We hang in silence, look forward to hug him again, it hurts the heart.
On fifth October, twenty nineteen, cock crow clock ticking, everyone mourning in the morning. the time was eight thirty prompt, my strength has failed, my appetite has gone.
Blended in bleeding, weeping in grief I am blunt, the day was grown in grey, we never greeted to say bye.
Blessing shall be with you, Paradise shall be your home.
I was a genius of my time, I was a kid, but I flight kite in the air, I am the remote control with my force.
I was so fast than plane, I played with drone without drain, I am a rod with ton of ideas, you can’t break me.
Back then I lack the tool to mark, the map of my boundaries.
I organized infantry to defeat other kids from my neighborhood.
I go to war without mission only for missing of my mixing mud and water.
I am so creative right from cradle I never know, searching for my calling far across the border, I never bother it’s right in me, I carry it alone in the gene.
Tap your chest it’s not trap, your calling is right in you, never search too far, I have tried the same, it never work.
The poor man in Nigeria is a milk cow. I am reared either to be milked or be butchered, I struggle through thick and thin for my family’s survival I walk out from home without guarantee of coming back.
I dread man attack but I dread more of the invisible hunger attack For man has some sense while hunger does not, Only to be met with ungodly marauders Who have no conscience if they turned murderers.
I have naught knowledge of my offence Yet I am made to face the fence, And naught have I a means of defence.
Government milks me through tax collection Or they say is form of revenue generation, A poor man who has little or naught for consumption.
This world is not the ideal abode for me a poor man, Perhaps I don’t belong here beside any man, And I should pack all my baggage and go away.
Again transport fare is now a problem, Despite the covid-19 pandemic, The driver of Nigerian state has increased fuel price.
Then, where will I go to? Where will I be safe in my own motherland? Which of the securities will I trust? Who would wipe my tears? Government which makes promises to win my vote? Rich men with capitalist philosophy? Or my neighbour which we are in the shoe with?
I guess I have to stay here if this is my destiny, My North which used to be a sanctuary, is now a place where the term ‘survival of the fittest’ could practically be brought to bear.
Now, I sleep with one eye closed and the other opened, Thinking someone might pounce on me at anytime.
If I had the chance again to come back to this world again, I would choose another.
By: Mahmud Yahaya A student of Faculty of Law, Bauchi State University, Gadau. yahayamahmood090@gmail.com
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.
