Onuoha Okriko
OnuohaOkriko, a Nigerian writer with immense fiction talent, lives in Switzerland
Nigeria my Country
Nigeria my country, Nigeria my fatherland
Where shall we put our hope?
Where shall we run to when you are burning?
You are too big to burn down the streams of blood in flames
Nigeria you are bigger than Nigeria
Your arms and legs stretch over your borders
From the east to the west; from the north to the south
Who is like you?
Who is greater than you?
At your feet, nations roar
Your men are scattered
All over the earth
Your children are thirsty and hungry
Give them cassava
Give them coco
Fill their jerry can with oil
Take what they have in their land
Give them what they want
Don’t let them yawn
Don’t let them suffer
Don’t let your seeds perish over seas
Nigeria my country, my fatherland.
Virginie, our friend
Virginie, my friend, I see your face; I see your eyes
I remember your smiles
I also remember the last time
Life is cruel, life is unkind
It has torn us apart
It has made us all whole and naked
Between our friendship
But it will not change our memories
The farther we become, the more unchanged we become
Virginie, my friend, you are on my mind forever
I pray the heavens to guide you
Let there be peace in your heart
Let there be light on your path
Let peace reign in your room
Let your cat never die now
Virginie, my friend
An ingrate remains an ingrate
I have a brother who just graduated from the college
One day, my phone rang
I picked it up
“Hello,” I said
It was my brother on the other side
“Hello,” he answered.
“Brother,” he said, “I need help”
Being my brother, I had no choice
Soaked in the blood of brotherhood
Swimming in the feelings of our blood connections
I did his request, and I added behind that, ”Sex your chance”’
My brother walked away
He said no word
And I shook my head
What a wonderful world!
Two years later
My phone rang again
It was that my brother
“Hello, brother,” he called me like
He did the last time
I didn’t want to speak out of anger
It was still burning
But, finally, I did
“Hello,” I continued
Still, my brother begged me for another help
This time, I had decided to return home for Christmas
I told him I would be in our homeland so we could
At least, talk things over
I arrived my home town on the eve of Christmas
My homeland ablaze in fireworks, those celebrating Christmas
Men and women, children, the rich and the poor, the sick and the hearty
I, too, wanted to celebrate
My brother came to me
“Brother, what about your promise?”
I told him it was not the right time to talk
That we could talk later
But he insisted, and I stood my ground
He looked at me bizarrely
“You foolish. You idiot! You selfish!”
He stabbed me on the back with his words, and walked away
What a wonderful world!
What a brother I had!
An ingrate remains an ingrate!