TALE OF UNITY by Al-Latif Kambo-Naa

We walked through a glass street door
Poised to be back in saloon room
Shake by wagging tale of unity where
Leaves fell from the bulging tree.

Tugged into clean muddy waters
Of a family yawning off hunger
In a land of abundant fruits
Carrying a huge cross of regret.

Took a three-sixty day of reflection
Dying in self-pity of the past
Hooked by words of ancient tree and
Roots sprout in covered soft layers.

In a place where friend fielded
In for a for in an ambush for glory.
An elite league of African legends
substituted in agony for the norm.

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By the Christmas tree ? ??
Where the birth of Christ is heard, read, and spread

That Once upon a time
Even before the beginning of time

In a serene vicinity
Lived a beautiful lady, Mary
Right in royal King David’s city

She was very diligent, pious and gay
And while on her routine one auspicious day

An angel appeared out of the blue
To which she had no clue

But in all humility; she received his message with joy
For she’ll give birth to a baby boy

Whom she would call Jesus
Whose birth is meant to save us

Though Mary was engaged to Joseph
A carpenter full of himself

For when he got to know Mary has lost her virginity
To carry an untimely pregnancy

He almost refused to marry Mary
Until an angel appeared in his dream and told him not to worry

They later had a magnificent and a simple wedding ceremony in tranquility
A decree came for all heads to be numbered
So they travelled to a little town called Bethlehem to be counted

Since Mary was loaded with pregnancy
And was about to deliver in ecstasy
They searched and discovered a stable of vacancy

And like a pastors arrival to a revival
They earnestly awaited on the baby’s arrival

Mary gave birth to a blessed baby
In fact one with a heavenly origin

And As shepherds watched their flocks that holy night
Myriads of angels appeared in reflecting beams of light

To announce the good news of the holy baby

Herod the cruel king sent the three wise men to witness and report that beautiful sight
With an intention of attacking to kill the new born king with all his might

The three wise men discovered a sparkling star
That was not too far

leading them to their destination with ease
And upon finding Mary and baby Jesus they were so pleased

So they brought precious gifts
Of Frankincense, Myrrh and Gold
They bowed down and presented their gifts with joy untold

The wise men outwitted the wicked King Herod by switching their highway
Whilst the angels directed the blessed family another way

That day the world was blessed beyond measure and stood in awe

This is the Christmas story Our forefathers and father’s told
And we ought to retell it till we are all old

For the birth of Christ is the reason why we are free
And I gladly say it by the Christmas Tree.

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Electors Mandate

Electors are kingmakers with a special mandate

To elect a competent and right candidate

Who will serve and lead their domain or state

And like a bride and a bridegroom

Whenever we snail-ly walk into election

We advocate for violence instead of preventing any distortion

Forgetting peace in a county is of great exemption

Like a royal being enslaved

We allow our mandate to be taken for granted

So to those who create,loot and share

To those bodies who determine our welfare

Please let’s treat the citizenry with fair

For politics is a means of trading developmental ideas

Not instilling horrific fears

And filling the minority and vulnerable with tears

With your propaganda you proclaim unity

Implanting in our hearts seed of prosperity and security

But you cultivate corruption, nepotism and insecurity

Politics, now a dirty game

Defaming people’s good name

Yet it’s not always them to blame

For we put on their shoulders elephant expectations

Which is not even their ant obligation

Putting politicians in tight angles

Forcing them to behave as archangels

As Angels who are meant to meet

Who are meant to meet our every need

So don’t be surprised if they steal from us

Just in the name of impressing us

And end up in huge mansions and flashy cars

There need to be an electoral rehab

For the power to rule is on the thumb of the elector

Yet we trade our holistic mandate

To the wrong candidate

In the name of tribe, religion and affiliate

Why taking a token to exercise your enfranchise?

Why allowing malice boil in our ears like rice?

Oh fellow elector, where is your mandate?

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In love with teachers

The ideal persons of our time

Sometimes smooth and sweet and at times as sour as a lime

They stand so caring and generous among the rest

And teaching and child development, I bet they are the best

Their care, smiles and patience is the least virtue of their fame

And for the wildest student do they easily tame

That’s why we sing of their glorious name

“#Facilitators # Lecturers”
the stars drawn across our pictures

They are simple, friendly and very discipline in nature

With their same success story

Do they foretell and assures us not to worry

For their instructions and stern corrections

Are meant to instill in us perfection

They’re meant to prepare us for the future dreams

Yet they insist that our future is now and not later

And no matter your confusion on a subject their jolly and comics will catapult you to understand beyond measure

God bless all facilitators and lecturers

To the school they are a great treasure

To every graduated class our manager and destiny helper

To me ; they are worth my mentor, counselor, preacher and admirer

And if you can read and write then I guess you should consider them your lover

Oh yes indeed! I’m in love with teachers ??

So to our dear teachers I say a very big thank you and God richly bless you

Posted by DaCosta de Poet?

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Are you a comforter?

Or an Armageddon of the bed?

You forced sunshine into the night,

Your exploits echoed fear and joy

Into the annals of the born and unborn

You break human walls

In a vulnerable community,

welded by race and ethnocentrism.

I met you first in a car–

A lonely destination,

And you showed so much compassion.

You overlooked my dark colour,

Something you watched with your own eyes

Yet you accepted me wholeheartedly

Crushed long-held family conventions,

Built traditions that mend pots

engravings sharper than a razor blade

to give this beautiful life

that the first poem I wrote

echoed you.

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We lived in harmony until they sailed through the Niger.
Like saints, they transgressed with intent to devour.
Without hostility but hospitality we shared.
Unknown to the dove that it’s nest has been infested by soldier ants.

Our hearts were pure and free of pant
like that of a newly birthed infant.
In them we could see brothers,
Brothers from across the borders.

Through the Niger, they came sailing.
But like lions in sheep clothing.
Known in faces with intents in masks.
They came encapsulated with a task.

We’ve brought you treasures, they made us believe.
Little did we know they came to devour our treasures.
Our mothers they turned servants,
Our fathers drudged with no iota of humanity.

The mayhem continued to spread like a wild fire.
We toiled, we bled and we groaned in pains.
Under the harsh sun and the frenzy atmosphere we were striked like animals.
Until the cock croaked and the bells rang.

Amazonians we had as lass.
Warriors we had as lads, In that dogged spirit, our heroes past stood bold like an eagle.
Fought daringly.
To create a new world.
A new world of Liberation.
A world stuffed with light.
Light that shines on the faces of the nation.
That has brought unceasing smile to the hearts of the nation.

I speak of a land that was mathematically calculated,
Geographically sighted
And agriculturally vested.
I speak of that has been naturally endowed with the gift of nature.
I speak of that black land with black men who in their pure heart, has made the country proud.

We cried and toyed in sorrow
But cried no more when men from different region come to a legion to fight for the nation.

My mother land was free from doom.
Independence came and we got freedom.
Happy independence to my mother land.

By: MC Proph Opeyemi
Oguche Samuel
Okafor Linda
Walter Peter’s


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In it I take my joy.
Not an ordinary appellation,
It took a different twist,
Sabon but never related
In the infancy of dawn,
I stepped into oozing dew
Blanketed by the droplets
Which fest on my nimble foot

Oh! my ankles weren’t left out
The blades of grass axed them
Like a butcher’s chopping board
The bijoux of cow dung crowded
A meandered path
Uncertain of what hide under
A callused darkness of water and mud.

I wobbled faster than a dodged bird,
Dangled closely to a shooting pellets And hopped sharper than a toad,
Distancing my wafted feet
from seated lakes,
On a middle path.
But why should I snailed ponds
Or Mountains, Blades of grass,
Endure the bloodstains to a Joy?

I got to the four squared edifice
Wishwashed in yellowish oil,
Candying in with dawn timberness.
It’s not an ordinary joy.
From above, it stooped into my palm,
Caressing my soul, body and mind.
It’s a Joy of different order.


Al Latif Kambonaang.

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Childhood memories are like the sun bird and the sweet nectar

The memory is a pollinator that defines our youth

As a young child, barefooted I trekked to fetch the happiness from the stream

And the barrel at home must be filled

Unless mum would frown at me

Mum would call my name to tease the forest birds

Her voice trails the heart of the forest in echoes

And I would know she has returned from where she sells


Childhood memories are like the ocean, it never dries

How we ran and jumped in the rain

With undiluted joy in our hearts

How we hunted for grasshoppers

Chased the little pretty birds

To get hold of them, dallied at the rolling of tyres

Our motor we’d call it

In those days, joy had no option than to dwell in our hearts


Our slates, we throw aside

When we return from school

No extra tutors, yet we passed with ease

With catapult round my neck

I trekked distance in the bush to hunt the games that brought me joy

Joy had no option than to dwell in our hearts

We had pictures, we threw to the wall in a game

The nearest to the wall is paid a picture

And we feel like it is money in our hands


In unison, we built houses with palm fronds

Gathered gravels and stones to cook delicacies

As we thought

Making contributions of the condiments

Our kites fly like birds in the air

And our joy knew no bound at all

In that union, there was a strong bond

The love was there

To harm one another existed not in our lexicon



By Linda Okafor and Dim lfeanyichukwu

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If l can’t get to the clouds
I will reach for the skies

If l can’t be wealthy
I will reach for comfort

If l can’t get to the moon
I will reach for its light

If l can’t get love from you
I will reach for friendship

If l can’t get to the stars
I will long for its greatness

If l can’t get to the sun
I will long for its brightness

If l can’t be on earth
I will long for heaven

If l can’t get help
I will learn to help

If l can’t get love
I will learn to love

I will rather reach for the skies
To illuminate the world with its brightness

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I walk in between lines on a lonely road
My pen inks the best of what my thought says
Though the journey is unclear
But my pen writes while my thought leads the path
My fingers are never tired to thread where poets have passed

In the next line on my way to the lonely road
I deal with the words that help to disseminate my mission on the path
The words, my fingers write are the very truth you read when you come along with me

Every steps taken is led by my fingers
Every thoughts is led by my pen’s ink
The lonely road is where poets have journeyed through
Slicing words to suit and fit their lines in the path
And l am not the first of my kind
Great poets like Alfred Lord Tennyson journeyed through the lonely road

William Butler Yeats forsaw an lrish airman’s death on a lonely road
The aeolian sound of the wind hums as the trees give way when l walk on a lonely road
My pen and my thought walk on the path refreshed
But the journey is not an easy one.

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