The Sun News

Poetry: Habib Akewusola

Habib Akewusola is an NYSC member serving in Jos North, Plateau State, Jos Nigeria. Called a social critic by colleagues, Habib’s poems are frequently published in Nigerian dailies and scores of online literary and political platforms. He was a Nominee Nigerian Writers Awards 2015 & 2016.

After a fall 

After a fall

Familiar voices pet me insults,

After a fall

Two-third of my earthly

Stock litter as crumbs.

Betrayer preaching gospel,

Adviser misspelled noble.

After a fall

Esteem dropped,

Grace had been knocking.

I rushed, she couldn’t wait anymore.

After a fall

God rings a final call,

Beauty of today is tomorrow,

Spiritual exercise never

Guaranteed luxury.

After a fall

I eat my words

Sank in thy thoughts.

Failure visits all,

Repeat, then master fault,

To rise becomes your job.

Horse pee too 

Life savers hospital

Emergency ward,

1,2,3 antibiotic lies.

God prefer praises,

Silent melodious lyric.

Humanity is far from over

Civilization definitely will start all over.

Wire shall replicate vein

Robots shall bare human name.

Government might trade her people.

Horse loving a lady,

Sex lost her norm and sacred,

Jezebel widen thigh to rape.

Deliver look alike dog face,

Brown and black hairy horse tail.

Beginning a new race, ‘Robotic-human-animal-sexual’.

Collect money contact Aids,

Diseases sell faster than hotcakes.

Miracle for foreign exchange,

Taboo went with ancient of days.

Patiences far different from wait,

During patience, tiny moment count,

During wait, busybody gives up after a little weight.

Love and opposite

Love is cure

Love is brief,

Love sweeps of a feet

Love a soul thief,

Love sees

Love spread across a sea,

Love thick

Love thinks,

Love dwells in a being

Woman and me,

Plants and a pig,

Love is scary

Night shield every,

Love is merry

Bad times equally share his,

Love is smart

Love cheat math,

Love is myth

Love is destined to meet,

Love is neat

Liquid to ovulation bred me,

Love is dumb

Love kissed my chewing gum,

Love is the Sun

No fee before she sets on,

Love is God

God that is in you,

God bless God

Gong await our tune.



Barine Ngaage

Dr Barine Saana Ngaage is an Associate Professor, who teaches African Literature and Creative Writing in the Department of English, Faculty of Arts, Niger Delta University, Amasoma, Bayelsa State.

African arts

Chisels eat slices of wood

in the darkroom of craft

where raw material is the shadow of reality:

chisels eat pieces of wood, skin off shadow

and crystalise concrete images;

this art grows through brilliant fingers

and emerges in the season of joy as

masquerades of delight.

Fingers and legs

create rhythmic movements

as Akwete is awake with dexterity

in variegated colours of the rainbow

to clothe beauties in delight.

Female fingers of Ogoni nurse clay

in its tender, obedient form

into seizes and shapes of pots with

nature stamps of animals

and men on them.

Rainbow threads walk like a millipede

In the tender fingers of women

On wood in gestation craft-rooms

Till clothes emerge in market sheds.

Flesh becomes sculpture

Of founders and Greats in cinematic

Flowering of images from invisibility

To reality of cement and bronze works.

Modern songs of African wits

are bullets in stanzas against colonialism;

they have chased barbarity from

inhuman walls of aching joy.

Strings and fibers stream

into markets awake from death to reality

in basket shapes of delight;

common materials from forests

create precious wealth.

Modern plays lament false jewelry

in lofty houses of beauty

seen afar through historical lenses.

Songs, tales and plays pulsate

with images which ride on native icons;

they glide on native and foreign rhythms.

African Arts wear a new face

they turn in different directions;

the past stands sturdy

the present pivots the arts on

A new wheel of time.


The command exploded – “stop there”.

The screeching tyres of thought revolted

“Your white shirt riots

against your grey trousers.”

“Sir, your inquisitive tongue

riots against mannerism”

“Why is your hair scrapped like a prisoner’s?”

“Why should wild bush rat query house rat?”

“Your books have slapped

you on the wrong side!”

“You have read n
ature from the smart end”

“Why the conflict of names on the

particulars – Lingua and Linguas?”

“The clearance officer’s net

pulled in an additional ‘s’

“Your tug-of-war tongue

must visit the headquarters”

“I must call the clearance

officer to brush off the ‘s”

“Ha! Ha! Ha!” Black officer

danced the song of error joyously,

timing his steps to rhyme with duty and self.


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April 2018
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