In The Wheelchair Not Confined

 

Legs are two rolling wheels

propelled by hands,
like every soul,
he goes wherever wanted,
he traverse every route,
he climbs every staircase,
from the base of skyscraper
he reaches for pinnacle;
his presence is felt everywhere.

 

Ability he brings from disability,
comfort-he creates from discomfort,
self-pity he turns to amazement,
victorious battles he makes from
self defeatism,
possibility from impossibility.

 

Limitations he changes to limitless,
potentials immersed in him,
he unwraps from cocoon,
hopelessness to hope
confidence instill into self,
courage he draws from
discouragement
goodness from unpleasantness.

 

Everyday agenda he set for himself,

daily renewal he accomplishes by
new goals,
accept no defeat for answer,
but you can as a better choice.

 

Never short of laughter,
love-he radiates-
peace-he wishes those
around him,
faith-he engenders-
you can live a fulfilled live
sermon he preaches to
people living with challenges.

 

In wheelchair-there is hope-

in confinement there are
alternatives,
in challenges-there are
solutions,
assurance he gives to
wheelchairers.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Child Marriage: Plights Before Me

Child Marriage:

Plights Before Me.

Innocence in me,

society betrayed,
joy in me-
society destroyed,
wonderful future
ahead of me
society truncated.

Duties not ready for

society assigned me,
roles not yet learned
community placed upon
my shoulders.

Man I should call my guardian,

turns a stallion and
fellow I should call my confidant
makes me a sex-satisfying object;
one I should call a brother,
becomes a violator of my body.

School-society makes it

my enemy,
education-society makes it
less important;
economic empowerment,
society makes it a crime
before me,
freedom-society denies me,
my independence-society
makes it a sin.

Poverty-society set before
me,
eternal pains-humankind
creates for my soul;
even-what shall come from
me-fruit of belly,
society had already
committed social injustice
against.

What shall be called my own,
inheritance and tomorrow-
poverty and pains-
bequest-society keep for
them as patrimony,
life without purpose-
birthright-
they may possess, and
life without meaning,
heritage-they may pass on
to incoming generation.

Denials-they handed me as

gifts,
aborted dreams my lot
among homosapiens,
life in me-society encapsulates-
by primordial culture,
talents and good in me,
society used against me.

My sexuality-good-for-nothing,
son-of-Adam keep exploiting,
my cries from kitchen counter top
to inner room,
symphony of joy for
husband-father who keeps me
in his courtyard.

Life-yes-life with dignity,
I did not know or have,
fantasies-all I knew-
real and genuine life-
from pictures and drawings
I learned them.

Will this cycle of life continues?

Will my girls undergo same pain?
Will society keep treating girls
same way?

Mankind should save girls today,
give them education,
empower them to be
independent,
emancipate women from
shackles of poverty.

Give women a better life
to live;
stop rape,
halt prostitution,
end discrimination against
women;
Protect womenfolk
for them to PRESERVE
Life.

Southern Zaria: Nigerian Aleppo.

Southern Zaria:

Nigerian Aleppo?

With hands on jaw and
teary eyes gazed at celestial
heavens,
binoculars-sent on holidays,
telescope-he refused to date-
champagne-he spurned with disdain,
this night-he scorned the chirping of
birds-
just away from his abode.

Wailing, wailing, and wailing
inconsolably for innocent souls
murdered,
rhetorically-he asked,
Southern Zaria-what did you do?
Southern Zaria-what is your offence?
Southern Zaria-what did these
vampires and leeches see
in your blood?

Your blood they shed at will,
from day to day,
week to week,
month to month,
year to year,
they hunt you down in homes,
at schools-your children-
they gun down,
in sanctuaries-and-hallowed
places,
your blood they spill to
paint their lances and
sword red.

Oh! Southern Zaria-
why weeping for wasted souls
by good-for-nothing-
merchants of death and
tool-bearers of violence
every time,
instead of celebrating you.

Motherhood-the callous-
deprived mothers,
husbands-messengers of violence-
snatched away from their wives,
escaped and fortunate fathers
they turned undertakers
to arrange burials of
their massacred kids.

Fatherhood-these murderers-
denied fathers,
joy of parenting-
people without
heart-of-human
denied parents;
dreamers and future-of-nation,
tomorrow’s physicians, engineers,
teachers, scientists, bankers,
governors, even presidents,
bearers of violence and
freebooters encapsulated and
killed.

Southern Zaria-home of
legendary Queen Amina-
why have misanthropists make
you a slaughter home in
hands of “foreign” herdsmen-
whose passport and visa to
kill are their flocks?

Elders-and-fathers-of-the-land,
“ex this or ex that”
why maintaining a criminal
silence,
but grunt from behind
the curtains in your inner rooms?

Fathers-of-nation,
may Nigerians know why
bandits get protection and cover
from state security agencies to
unleash terror on citizens and
tax payers?

Fathers-of-nation,
may Nigerians know why
people’ patrimony or
collective inheritance
turns automated teller
machine to pay
bloodsuckers and
desert raiders?

Fathers-of-nation,
why looking elsewhere-
when Southern Zaria turned
execution chamber?

Why preoccupied with

“Christmas Carol” and
“Nigeria Pray”
when storm troopers
painted Southern Zaria red
in its blood?

Fathers-of-nation,
why expressing
“ran-ka-de-de”
with fisted-or-hand-raised-
clenched-arms,
“Merry Christmas,” and
“Happy New Year”
when Southern Zaria was on fire?

Today, it is Southern Zaria,
tomorrow, it may be Jos, Markudi,
Gboko, Enugu, Owerri, Calabar,
Port-Harcourt,
Ibadan, Akure, Osogbo, or Ilorin.

In spite of thick cloud,
none the less of torrential rain,
notwithstanding the scorching
sun, and
regardless of pain of the moment,
Cry No More Southern Zaria,
Weep No More Southern Zaria,
your future will be more
glorious than TODAY.