Basking in the Radiant Star

Holy is the night
So holy that words only cannot describe
A precious gift worth more than a thousand frankincense
For saints as for sinners

As so imperfect as I am
I feel the perfection of this Love
The Joy of the day freed my wings from the cold harmattan
And filled my nostrils with soothing fragrance of the desert wind

I rejoice hand in hand with those in whose hands I placed the trust
Of friendship and family
Wishing that this feeling be contagious and airborne

It is the end of another year
Even though many roosters and broilers die today in the harsh burners of festive meals
We still wake up to yet another crow
Many tried to work against the light
But darkness is still in flight

Money is the sources of riches
But health encompasses wealth
I am among the blessed, alive
That is an understatement

With every ounce of my being
I will bask in this gift
Worth more than a thousand frankincense


© Emeka Okereke, 26th December 2010

In The Land of Dignitaries

In the Land of Dignitaries

Many were called but few were called to choose

And placed at the centre of the country road

Where all goodies never elude their long throat

From where I stand I see snaky hills surrounding man-made mansions

Gwarinpa!* An estate almost as big as a state

Created by one already dead despite his everlasting wealth.

But one dead and thousands to go

And in other to keep alive, they steal

They steal the future of the people in other to nourish their present

They erect grotesque structures and set up gigantic accounts for their lineage yet unborn

While those alive are made to watch the sole of their own feet bleed as they walk the unending road, which only gets steeper and steeper with every climb.

You are welcome to our capital of excellence. We have more shopping malls than schools, and should there be a need for our children to be educated, we send them abroad to foreign lands where they learn how to speak with their nose, walk without their feet and eat without their hands.

Youths are the leaders of tomorrow, but that would be after all the fathers of October First* are dead.

“Who will save me?” says the son with a prodigal father

Who will save us from our own fathers!

The cries of the children are muffled by accentuated sounds of gbedu

The drums beat as we pay homage to utter foolishness and the worst scenery of mind poverty.

Chief! Oga kpata kpata! Egbόn! All are names given to those who are more equal than the others

While they bask in glories which every minute announces the doom of yet another great dream for a nation so blessed.

Yes, we love dancing, and we pride in our dexterity. We are natural dancers.

We could “dance, dance, dance, and forget our sorrows”.

But I ask: who is more foolish?

The dancer or the drummer?

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

* Gwarinpa estate is situated in Abuja the Capital City of Nigeria. It was commissioned by the late Nigerian dictator Sani Abacha during in his corrupt reign. It is the largest estate in Nigeria and all of West Africa. Most of the houses in this estate are owned by many past presidents, governors and senators who amass incredible amounts of wealth through corruption.

* October First, Nineteen Sixty was the day Nigeria gained independence from Great Britain, most of the so-called fathers of Independence who assumed leadership in effect are still alive today and actively in power.

© Emeka Okereke



How Many!

One, two, three
The trees die one after the other
To be replaced by monstrous structures
In there they scheme
They plot, they decide, they divide
They readjust, the restructure
They change, they replace, they displace
They kill, they maim

How many lives before the cemeteries out-number the living?
How many pints before the oceans turn red?
How many days before it is too late?

Time cannot tell
Even time will be timeless
The road endless

Unless the Journey begins now!

Lagos, Nov. 2010

Birthday Reflections

A day like this always calls for the utmost reflection

A day to be glad, but also a day to ask: why am I glad?

30 years ago, at dusk, I was born

It was the beginning of a journey no one could tell the outcome

For long others lead, I followed

I fumbled, tumbled, fell and failed

But somehow it never spelt the end for me or of me

“From grass to grace” some might want to say

Instead I prefer to think there is no grace without those who showed me the way through the grass.

They say “age ain’t nothing but numbers”

But it is the perfect measure of time,

Time to sow, time to reap, but not time to waste.

I have spent nearly 262, 968 hours since the day of my arrival on earth

It is a generous gift, and I feel blessed

I also feel strong

Many people have died for what they believe, but I am yet to live for it

I look up to the heavens today and ask the Almighty to continue to grant me more hours

And more wisdom to live them in Great deeds.

Filling My Portion

This trouble of the heart
I seek for a means to pour it out
At least that I may take a first look at it from a distance
I need to put a face to it
Indeed a name - not my name
It's been long now
And I really have to say goodbye

Farewell to a friend who was always an enemy
Farewell to the walls that threaten my ascent
Farewell to the concepts that weaken my courage

I shiver as if I am cold
I tremble at the thought of another day
Again, I kid myself it will be a lovely day
Yet, 'am not too eager to greet the sun

But courage would prevail
In the midst of these fears I will match on
For indeed there are no better options
As long as my body serves as a passage for the morning air
And a vessel for the sun and rain
I will sing with the birds
With as ugly as a coarse voice
I will join the chorus

Things I worry about are only meant for the dead
So why am I not living?
Everyday yields a night, only to unveil a morning
A new freshness
That much I know from the queen of the night, the lilies and roses

Now I hear the birds again
But I should not listen to them for too long
For our destinies are diverse
And it's about time I set out in action
To fill my portion of the blank spaces.


Lagos 22/10/2010

Been Away For Long....

Hello Comrades!
I have been away far too long
too long and too far to blog my doings
Doesnt mean though things aren't going
It's just the way I am
Never stick too much to a thing
I do not even want to be addicted to my work how much more you

But hey!
I am back
You missed nothing 'cos I've NOT been doing NOTHING.
Soon you will hear something, read something, feel something.

Should I say I have been swimming in unfamiliar waters
That would be saying the least
In there, I met sharks, gold fish, octopuses, a few sea turtles, and even a whole lot of water snakes.
Phew!

But hey!
Am back!
And you missed something
A bit of them you would like to know.

To Those Who Were Before Me And After Me

In my life I have been blessed by your existence
Now I remember those wise comments you make
In a sentence, even somehow carelessly.
Hardly did I know they lay before before my path as I advance in everyday.
How could I have known that there will come a time
when I would say the same things to myself.

They say time waits for no man!
But sometimes time waits for us to mature
So that we could appreciate moments of our past.

I just want to say to those who are before me and those after me:
"I am grateful to be in the middle"
You showed me where I am going
And you bring me back to things I miss while I was going too fast.

I am grateful
Grateful to life that has brought you all my way!


(c) Emeka Okereke - Lagos, 18/07/2009