A Collection of Oluwafemi Ojosu’s Poetry

Silhouettes | Fighting For Democracy | Decadence | The National Cake

A Collection of Oluwafemi Ojosu’s Poetry

Silhouettes

To Nigeria I welcome you all,
corruption is our watchword
the backbone of our national ideology.
At every given opportunity,
we celebrate lootocracy;
the siphoning and carting away of public funds.
Giant of Africa niwa
we do not care about sanctions.
Our swiss army, always on the ready
lining our vaults with oil money.

We believe in stomach infrastructure;
looking out for numero uno.
Grasshopping from party to party,
we sef must chop of the national cake.
A plate of rice here,
a bowl of fufu there
walahi Oshoko, you have my mandate.
Who needs roads
when he has rice?

Come election day,
we propagate ethnicity
and fan the embers of religious unrest
we talk of personalities
rather than address the issues.
Still, at the casting of votes,
ballot boxes we steal
from under unsuspecting noses.

Microscopic observers, awon olofofo
Like John the Baptist,
wailing in the wilderness
awon masses yi tutu bere.
They talk of ebola`
what is that?
A new brand of wine?
Kamoru get me ten cases.
Of chibok,
America will know jare
Sambissa is not on google maps.

Giving new definitions to democracy since 1999
you’re welcome to Nigeria;
where the rich stay greedy
and the poor stay needy.


mural-poetry-kurating

Fighting For Democracy

Law-breaking lawmakers,
like Olympic pole-vaulters,
on the roundness of their bellies pivoting;
in them, the mad spark of genius
unfortunately, without its ignition.

Gate jumping in the fight for democracy,
justice they posit, will surely prevail
for lady liberty is on their side.
Regrettably,
wuruwuru they say,
will inevitably lead to
katakata.

Freedom for democracy!
Their sonorous battle cry.
Their unrivalled frenetic displays,
doing poetic justice to their claims.
But in the hallowedness of their chambers still,
they sit to divide our treasures.

Awon onikun bembem
with bulging bellies,
they scale our ivory towers.
Of patriotism or desperation,
I simply cannot tell.

These actors of a macabre dance?
Fighting for democracy??
In this theatre of absurdity???
Jesu
kristi oluwa o!

And at the end of it all we’ll wonder…
A fight for democracy,
or a shameful show of crase;
my brother, only time will tell.


Decadence”

 

I’m no talebearer,
neither am I a master storyteller.
But of the little I know

 

within these pages I’ll show.

This is not a sexy story
this is a true story.
Speak a little truth
and the people lose their mind,
stretch it beyond its tensile strength
and watch them rage like hounds.

 

I speak of dictions
and not of contradictions.
Like trade in our stocks,
we have become a communal laughing stock,
amassing wealth by the legion
refusing to look beyond the horizon.
Stunted by ineptitude
and our I don’t care attitude;

 

the naira began its oily slide
and now none can stem the tide…
Still in market places full of banter,
we trade and we barter.

They call it magic
but truly I’m allergic.
Publishing `Lais` with penpoints,
terrorists; they hold us at gunpoints.
In the name of haram,
steadily they do our great nation harm

 

while we like sinners in the hands of an angry god
we are screaming in the name of a foreigner’s god
pleading with the numerous fires of creation
to save our flailing nation.


 

The National Cake

There it stood on display,
regal in all its delicious glory;
the National Cake cake-cake cake.
Baked with nuts, pods, toil and a dash of oil,
I longed to have a taste.

Hungering to have a taste,
I felt like Jay Z humming –
cake cake-cake cake
as I lingered there in the corridors
just beside the double doors
waiting to have a taste.artist

The table was set,
then came the announcement…
VIPs first.
Imagine my shock,
when they reeled out the names…
Senator Onikunbembe, President Alatenuje, Governor Onijewuru, Alhaji Abolonjeku!
Jesu! The list was endless.

Still; longing to have a taste,
just one teeny weeny little slice of the cake,
I inched my way towards the plate
but for all my stealth
and for all my patience,
they would not treat me like Patience.

Naught but a fictional stain,
I watched as the crumbs tumbled down their beards
wondering if I’d ever have a taste
of the National Cake cake-cake cake.

 

About Author

Oluwafemi is a legal practitioner, literary artist and eclectic gentleman; whose curiosity killed the proverbial cat. When he’s not busy positing on how to make Nigeria great again on echoesandthoughts.wordpress.com, you will find him ranting on twitter and Instagram @TheRains94.

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