grudge

a burden

weighty to bear, unbearable to condone

and painful to discard

but which we cherish a lot.

it makes the heart of man to stink

and not only makes him feeble

but also sickens him time and again

and yet he prefers to carry it like a cross.

it could be laid down effortlessly

but he would prefer to hold on to it.

despite being as heavy as a mountain

he prefers to cling on to it like a treasure.

it emaciates him like a kwashiorkored child

and reduces him to something less than human.

it makes foolishness of his existence

yet he loves to hold on to it.

man can easily let it go forever, but he can’t

because his happiness lies in bearing grudges.

he can easily unburden the basketful of grudges

but he prefers to carry it around like goods.

can man never ever think of letting go?

can he not think of forgiving and forgetting?

can he never think of letting the sleeping dog lie?

How about burying the hatchet once and for all?

yes! of course he can!

he can because pain can be healed,

hatred can be turned to love and division into unity.

and grudge could be made a history!

Okumephuna Chukwunwikezarramu

January 1, 2008.

Crawling Buses Of London

Can you believe it?

One hour from Battersea to Thornton Heath

Two hours from Brixton to Hampstead Heath

Three hours from Barking to Bexleyheath

Forty minutes from Borough to Lambeth North

And from Chelsea to Chiswick it takes ages

While from Camden to Clapham Common takes till thy kingdom come

Is it now a crime to travel on London Buses?

They will take full fare and would never ever think of giving a free ride

And then take ages to crawl from one place to another

Like a snail crawling from Hackney to Haringey

Woe betide you!

If you ever jump on one of them bendy buses without your oyster

They will quickly slap a 25 pound fine on you

That is if you pay within 21 days or 50 pounds after 21 days

Otherwise you would be disgracefully dragged before the magistrate

But they will never ever think of compensating you

When they take ages to get to your destination

In those appalling buses always overcrowded with passengers

OMG!

Passengers facing each other like slaves in a slave ship and stinking of odours

Oozing out of the stinking body of homeless boozy passengers

Who converted them buses into their homes

With their smelly bodies testifying that they have not showered for ages

Terrible buses that could give you a myocardial infarction

Very cold during the winter and very hot during the summer

And yet we are still expected to fork out our fortune

To pay for the poor miserable service

And expected to be smiling all through!

Chukwunwikezarramu Okumephuna

November 4, 2009.

I Weep For My Country Nigeria

How did we finally get at this juncture?

How did we put our country in this mess

Even To the extent of being referred to as

419ners, internet scammers and terrorists?

What exactly went wrong and why?

Who should we blame for the mess?

I thought we had a big dream?

A dream of being the giant of Africa

A great people and a great nation

A model black nation worthy of emulation

Where peace and justice shall reign forever

I thought we dreamt of building

A nation flowing with milk and honey

With our abundant natural resources?

A model nation paved with gold

Yes! Because we have the oil that would

Hasten the realisation of the dream

The dream of living in that El Dorado

Where castles are built in the air

Once the independence is achieved

But that dream was smashed

Not even by our enemies

But by our own kith and kin

They smashed our common dream

And it shattered like an earthen bowl

That fell from an unsteady head

Scattering all over the places

Hopelessly and irreparably shattered

That the wound is proving difficult to heal

And just before our naked eyes

Our dream quickly fizzled away

And landed at the laps of our neighbours

Because we failed to grab the opportunity

When it was comfortably on our own laps

Now we are back to square one still dreaming

And hoping that since the independence is gone

The oil would do the miracle

We thought that our oil and independence

Would bring us prosperity and happiness

A hope we carried in our bag with pride

But that hope turned out to be our distress

The oil in particular became a woe unto us

A curse on our children and children children

The greatest obstacle to that El Dorado

This oil brought us absolutely nothing

But unending miseries and agonies

Today we cannot boast of anything

No constant electricity

No potable water

No security

No motorable road

Nothing but just only

Corrupt politicians

Discontented populace

Riots and demonstrations

Oil conflicts here and there

Killings and shootings by armed robbers

Political assassinations and kidnappings

Bigotry and killing in the name of God

Persecution and intolerance of the minorities

Infringement of the rights of the people

A broken dream; a broken nation

And a desperate population.

Chukwunwikezarramu Okumephuna

September 9, 2009.

Brothers At War

In Memory Of The Aguleri/Umuleri Conflict

Charred remains littering everywhere

Bloated eyes dislodging out of severed heads

Tongues sticking out of tightly shut mouths

Faces disfigured by pangs of death

Arms and legs miles away from their bodies

Blood flowing ubiquitously like a river

Bullets here and there and yonder

Every house in both communities still on fire

Women wailing over their husband’s corpse

Young girls grieving over virginity lost violently

Children mourning parents that are no more

You can feel sorrow and pain in the air

Massive darkness overwhelmed the whole land

And the gentle light took to her heels for her life

Taking tender unity and fraternity along with her

And the brothers at war; all of them no exception

Got the breathing space they so much needed

And descended upon themselves like barbarians

Levelling everything on their way with terror

Unleashing indescribable brutality on themselves

Like boorish savage beasts from the stone ages

The worst the communities have ever seen

Shocking, upsetting, distressing and disgusting

Siblings and kinsmen on each other’s throat

Thousands are gone and more are still going

Over a piece of land not bigger than the Vatican

A land that was, is and would continue to be

The land unexpectedly led to the worst of calamities

And brothers threw caution to the wind and began

Slaughtering themselves like Christmas chickens

Burning and roasting everything within sight

Not even thinking of the chain binding them

Or the sacredness of circle of life; Ubuntu

Fathers after their own sons

Mothers after their daughters

Husbands after their wives

Wives after their husbands

Children after their parents

In-laws after their in-laws

Kinsmen after their kinsmen

Everybody against everybody

And on each other’s throat

Things just suddenly fell apart like a broken calabash

And the wickedness of man’s heart went into action

Brotherly love suddenly turned into brotherly brutality

Peace vanished in a click like a candle in the wind

While chaos and calamity showed their true colours

And the land started swallowing everyone in anger

By the time they realised the depth of their madness

And the implication of their insanity and childishness

Thousands of their kinsmen and women have gone

And the land in question is mockingly still there

Staring at them with scorn and they regretted it

And vowed never to learn war no more.

Chukwunwikezarramu Okumephuna

July 11, 2009.

Biafra!

Enugu, Biafra, March 6, 2015.

Go tell it on the mountain tops

Proclaim it from the hill tops

Announce it from the roof tops

Shout it on top of your voices

Let the whole world hear about it

Including our enemies and adversaries

Who joined our enemies to slaughter us

Thinking that this dream would come to naught

Go now and tell them with a joyful noise

Accompanied with a clanging cymbals

That the dream has finally become a reality

That the epiphany of the nation is arrived

That what we fought for is finally achieved

That our common dream is now a reality

That the toil of our fathers is not after all in vain

We waited patiently for too long for this day

For five good decades we were busy dreaming

Praying that this day arrives to meet us still alive

Today our immeasurable joy knows no bound

Because this tiny fragile but hopeful seed

Watered by the precious blood of our brothers

The sufferings and starvations of our kinsmen

The sweat and fortitude of our rag-tagged army

Is finally come to fruition and this nation called

The State of Biafra Is finally taken flesh and blood

And is now dwelling among us forever and ever!

Chukwunwikezarramu Okumephuna

January 15, 2009.

No Place Like Home?

There is indeed no place like home!

Home is truly the bestest place to be!

That’s the song our leaders sing to us daily

They have been singing it from the ages past

It has replaced our national anthem and pledge

But wait! Is that not fast turning into propaganda?

An instrument of brainwashing and indoctrination

To becloud our sense of questioning and reasoning

A smokescreen for their failure to develop our country

A ploy our corrupt shameless misfit leaders

Have been using to deceive and swindle us

So as to continue looting the commonwealth

For personal pleasure and aggrandisement

Squandering our resources to reward cronies

Raping our economy so that their wives, concubines

And children are assured of a comfortable life

Surely there is no place like home!

But what if that place has got no

Potable water

Motorable roads

Quality education

Universal healthcare

Free and fair election

Constant power supply

Fundamental human rights

Security of life and property

Good governance and accountability

Decent and affordable accommodation

Respect, tolerance and accommodation

How about if you do not feel at home there?

Then there is a place like home

That place is where all these are

A place where you feel at home

That place is where I call a home

And you should be proud to call it a home too!

Chukwunwikezarramu Okumephuna

November 3, 2009.

Pastor’s Wife

She has been suspecting for a very long time

That he is up to no good whenever he is in his office

Particularly with young female parishioners

One day she arrived in the office unexpectedly

Walked past his secretary, entered his office

And caught him red-handed sitting on a table

Dressed in his presbyteral cassock and sash

With his PA’s bubbling boobs in his mouth

Greedily sucking the oversized boobs

Like a one-month old motherless baby

Spanking, smacking, sucking and swallowing

All at the same time while the PA moans excitedly

Like a bitch going through a hard time from a silly dog

Poor girl! Young enough to be his own granddaughter

And the old pastor was busy rolling his stinking tongue

Over and over the pointed nipples of those turgid boobs

Uttering endless gibberish over and over again

A shock his wife found very unbearable

And she took pictures of the action

Many of them and sent them to the press

The next day ‘The Sun’ carried it on the front page

‘Pastor caught sucking PA’s boobs’.

Chukwunwikezarramu Okumephuna

November 7, 2009.

First Night Together

That was our first night together

And when it was time to get together

I pulled out my rubber from the drawer

A wise precaution against STDs

Including the ubiquitous HIV and AIDS

Not to talk of unwanted pregnancy

But she protested out loudly

“Oh! No! There is no need for that”

And I asked her why and she said

“Because you are clean and so am I”

It was a shock to me

A shock like that of lightening

Because I do not even know her

Besides I never discussed about cleanliness with her

That was even our first night together

I brought her home straight from the night club

And am sure I wasn’t the first to have brought her home like that

And certainly not the first she told, “You are clean and I am clean”.

Chukwunwikezarramu Okumephuna

October 25, 2009.

Mr. President

The time is 9 O’clock in the morning

The date is October 1, 2010

The event is the 50th birthday of the nation

The invited guests are right on time

Including the diplomats and the school children

Who formed a snake-like line along the streets

Beaming with smiles and waving endlessly

Under the scorching tropical sunshine

Waiting anxiously to catch a glimpse of their president

Now it is 2 O’ clock in the afternoon

The president is not yet arrived

And there is an obvious sign of fatigue

And discontent written all over the faces of the guests

Including that of the murmuring school children

Though they have resolved that a glimpse of him alone

Would be enough to justify the torture

But amidst the palpable discontent and unhappiness

None was courageous enough to complain

Of the incivility of Mr. President being late on his own day

They stand in awe of him for he is a god here

He lords over this rich but poor African nation

Just like a deadly beast lords over the wild

Every knee in the land bows before him

As if both the land and the people are his personal property

While every tongue praises his apparent stupidity

He is a god who does not keep to time

Believing arrogantly that keeping to time is for the poor

And so after waiting for ages

Sirens finally bellowed from all directions

Like an alarm warning of an impending missile

And he emerged like an ijele masquerade

Out of his brand new shinning limousine

Followed by an entourage of 50 vehicles before and after him

Carrying his numerous wives, concubines, mistresses and kids

With over 60 heavily armed escorts

And in a very uncouth flamboyant African leaders manner

Instead of apologising profusely for appearing very late

He turned on his ministers and panegyrists

And began to pour verbal venoms on them

Just for nothing but to let everybody know that he is in charge

“Idiots where is this. Idiots where is that”, he kept shouting

Shouting on top of his voice like an angry lunatic

And they all went down on their fours

Paying never-ending lip services to him

“Yes sir”

“We are loyal sir”

“Long live the president”

“The president for life”

“The conqueror”

“The anointed one”

“The Lion of Judah”

“Our only hope”

“Yes your majesty”

“No your majesty”

And all sorts of rubbish to inflate his empty ego.

Chukwunwikezarramu Okumephuna

October 31, 2009.

Christmas Sucks!

London, United Kingdom, December 25, 2009.

The Christmas day

The day Jesus Christ was born

We never expected him to come

We were busy having a good time

Laughing, smiling and having parties

Merriment here and there and yonder

And just in the climax of that excitement

He appeared unexpectedly in the sky above London

“Who are these godforsaken people left out of my annual birthday bash”, he asked

“Oh Lord! Leave them they are illegal immigrants and failed asylum seekers”, we replied

“750,000 of them. You heartless dickheads! How can you maltreat your brethren like that?”

“You are wining and dining and having parties and they are living hopelessly underground”

“Despite my injunction that you gather all so that none should be left out of this one body”

“And you are here hypocritically celebrating my birthday. I think Christmas in actuality sucks”

“Today they shall be with me in paradise and you can continue with your enjoyment here.”

Chukwunwikezarramu Okumephuna

December 25, 2009.