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#Endpolicebrutality

#Endbadgovernanceinnigeria

You lack the unity in maintaining peace amongst people,
But you rather maintain your bullets by taping it together.

You swore an oath to protect the lives of people,
But you stop them on the road, take their money and lives all together.

You were ordered and instructed to arrest those who harm people,
But you rather join them to extort; now you are together.
_________________________________________________

A peaceful protest we simply demonstrated.
After we decided to stand tall like the horses in our coat of arms.

Then our very own protectors in which we share the same blood dressed in camo, pointed their guns at us and fired their arms.

Acting unaware meanwhile gave direct orders to attack their own people are our leaders folding their arms.

All because we decided to put a stop to the suffering imposed on us after being forced to scavenge for our rights like we are begging for alms.
________________________________________________

End Sars, End Police Brutality; we requested.
Reform the Police, we suggested.
We came out to protest for this to be implemented.
But still we were trampled upon by those we were asking a favor from.
Now our land is filled with feathers and blood.

Lives have been lost,
And people are giving up,
But arise ye compatriots.
__________________________________________________

Nothing has been changed but the color of our flag,
Green and Red.
Stained by the blood of the innocent to serve as a reminder for all that:
The labor of our heroes past,
Shall never be in vain.

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Estée✨

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And I said to him, tell me more, No, Teach me.
After all was said and done he said to me.
If you were taught this same truth of someone else would you believe.
If I had not shown you all these great things but just told you stories of them would you believe.

Now the time had come.
He placed on a lump of cloud and he began to wave.
As I drifted slowly away from him, the light became smaller and smaller.
In a second I was surrounded by darkness.

For the past 8 months and 25 days I have listened from my swollen shell.
I have heard nothing but the misplaced hope of men in morality and riches, and I am sore afraid.
I am not afraid of where I go but the truth I am forgetting.
I kick this shell every now and then fighting to retain the memory of the truth I have left.
But I do so to no avail.
The truth is slipping, ever going.
Memory fails me.

Therefore I say to you who hears my cry.
I have only one request.
It is the same request I made to the Lord God of Isreal. 
That you teach.

Teach me about God’s love.
Remind me of the cross calvary.
Where the sacrifice was paid in full so that saints may ascend to glory.
The grace of God that surely abounds for everyone who believes
in Christ.
Teach me about faith, hope, patience, love, and the wrath of God that rests upon the children of disobedience.

Do not teach me to be a good person. 
Filling my life with a bunch of Do’s and Dont’s.
Laws that people before me have failed to keep.
Dont you know that the law came by Moses but grace came by Christ.
Our righteousness is nothing but rags before him.
Tell me about HIS righteousness that I may lean on him.

Do not come to me with doctrines of wealth and riches.
Telling me to seek my best life now.
Working to gain the world.
While spending the rest of my life ignoring him.

Wealth is good, morality is good.
But do not lay this down as the foundation of my life.
If I am introduced to him having morality and riches as my foundation.
I will measure my relationship with him as the amount of laws I have kept, self righteousness, or the amount of wealth I have received, Covetousness.

Away with self righteousness, Away with  covetousness. Away with these laws and doctrines of wealth. Away!, Away!!, Away!!!.

Time will not permit me to tell all.
For it is the 9th month and I must become an empty shell and be as one who had no knowledge at all.

But I say to you.
If you hear my cry, I do not cry for milk.
Neither do I cry to be covered in silk.
I do not cry for songs sweet as honey 
Nor do I cry for tickling in the tummy.

I cry so that you may teach me all that I have forgotten.
That you may teach me godliness.
Please teach me godliness.
Please teach me.
Please…..Teach Me.

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But each day, lives are subjected to an invisible cage…. 

The last time the phone beeped….

A sudden rush of excitement flowed,like a fainting person given oxygen…. 

A world trying to present a form of counterfeit perfection… 

Filling minds with illusions and causing depression… 

A blessing turned curse… 

The ‘like’ button becomes the source of happiness… 

Comments and tweets are as food and water… 

Our young ones are now jellyfishes… 

Relying on the signals in the air.. 

They become depressed as they see others portray perfection …

They compare themselves to others … 

Hating themselves and not loving others either….

And the cycles goes on and on…

The needle continues to prick that same spot…. 

And the more they try to pull it, the more it digs in…. 

Unbearable addictions ….

Where are those times we experienced the real world out there…. 

We have suddenly chosen to exist and not live… 

The phones are getting smarter… 

The people are getting duller… 

The next time you feel like you would not survive without that like button… 

Speak to yourself… 

Say it and mean it… 

“I am more than a number of likes “.

“I will not let my joy be sucked up by feigned perfection. “

“I am me! “.

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We are in a race of who is better, 

In search of one to rule over, 

We forgot who the enemy is, 

so we find ourselves a hater.

Working hard to better the hater, 

forgetting the common devourer 

Who mocks, as we make competitor

of the other, when we could stay lover. 

No evil.

In the people he worked evil, we still love 

By his hand they 9 to 5 stones at us

That evil may fill our days

On their heaped stone we will stand

Taller to see God’s word, we’ll be bland. 

Knowing all things work for our good

Awake, we will rise as His sun

He makes us up, taking lashes

For our lashes, with blows

For our brows, at the end it’s wows. 

Beauty’s scars.

Your beauty glows from your scars

Those thick skin thwarting troubles, 

You are a golden dust rising, flying? 

in the storms you grew wings. 

You have lost your reverse gear 

getting hammered even in the dark 

standing in the woods till an ark, 

is made perfect for the great king.

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I came early into this world 
Couldn’t stand the convenience of my mother’s womb
A cradle once homely and safe
Became a place of torture and distress 
Dilemma came upon me
What’s next to do
I’m in no rush
To come into this world 
Tales have been heard
And I’ve decided to spend 
My exact days here 
Fully prepared 
Ready for what
the world has to offer me
Nature won’t let me
Cruel hands of mother nature!
Why? 
What did I do to deserve 
All these sufferings
I’m barely prepared 
I’m barely formed 
How do I cope?
Forced to live in hardship 
So early in my life 
I’m just 24 weeks 
I need more time 
Time has turned
 it’s deaf ears on me. 
He doesn’t even look at me anymore 
He detests me.

Here I lie 
In a make shift home 
With people I can’t see,
so much hustling and bustling around
Intervals upon intervals.
Someone comes and sticks in needles 
in my feeble limbs.
Tears fail me 
Because I have no strength to cry.
I barely can breathe 
Days after days 
Things gets passed through my veins
At a point, 
A bright light shone on me for days 
I can’t comprehend this
Why did I come so early to this world 
Why!
Can anybody hear me
I  need answers !!!!

Estée 

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When will the world be free?
Free from lies
Free from hate
Free from penury
Free from injustice

When will tatters disappear
When will unshod feet disappear
When will the smiles return
To faces long desolate?

When will our gutters stop stinking
When will our streets stop flooding
When will batcha stop existing
When will the peasant have comfort?

Is it a dream to hope
For when childhood dreams come alive
Is it a dream to hope
That our lives are enmeshed in love?

Stolen produce, falsified records
The lucky few get fatter
Others emaciate
They turn their backs
Like they never knew want

Must the honest die
For the liars to flourish
Must our hearts be punctured
By the swordy darkness of our world
Must our smiles lack the fresh warmth of the hearth?

To live is to hope
To hope is to act
To act is to gain

When will the world be free?

Niffy.

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Male – Female 

Young – Old

We all have wombs 

Given incubators of courage 

Courage and strength to give birth to ourselves. 

We are all called 

We are all chosen 

For this very mission 

Only a few make this decision to – 

Give birth to yourself. 

The pain is right 

The sorrows are necessary 

The burden is heavy, it is temporary 

One of greatness, one of grit 

It is you who must bare 

this miracle forming within 

No one can live out this season but You

You must endure till the end and push, 

till You – Give birth to yourself. 

Friends and family have their place 

Strangers and acquaintances have their moments 

Your enemies could serve as midwives 

Leave room for people, leave all for God. 

Find You and love You 

Plant yourself and water His seed 

Grow from within till you can no longer be hidden 

Wait out the growth, watch the process 

Understand the Labour, know when it is time, 

to – Give birth to yourself. 

This experience of birthing. 

Does not choose gender 

It is intended for every one of us 

Your process could be slower 

Your time could come faster 

My process may be faster 

My time may come slower 

Suddenly, it happens quickly. 

We must give birth to ourselves. 

This inception is not one without love, 

From you. 

This conception is not one without pain, 

For you. 

This bittersweet bearing will release you. 

No, You are not barren. 

    You will not abort. 

    You cannot miscarry. 

You must – Give birth to yourself. 

Three days to take in on our behalf 

Three nights to adopt us 

That could only occur once, 

Now we must decide to give birth to ourself, 

then we can cross to help others. 

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A story without cliché

This is how a story goes,

With nervous endings like we triggered dendrites,

Born with nothing,

Fighting against the odds

Which gets as cliché as it could,

Succeeding against the upheaval.

But to say the truth,

It sometimes ends with all your hardwork being buried under the upheaval,

No matter how hard some people try, they could never come out or that fix,

It seems as though the universe has marked them out for damnation.

The amazing thing about these people is this,

They’ll never give up,

They always carry a glimmer of hope in their eyes

Some would sit with you and proclaim like Father’s do when advising a child.

They would say

‘Dear little one, never stop fighting for your dreams

Fortune might be against you now, but it could never hold out forever,

I’d rather die trying to reach my dreams, than give up and live an unfulfilled life

They would try to bring you down every minute,

But I know this, my child, your desire and unforseen positivity would see you through”

Listen to these words for I am only but a messenger

Yours truly,

The Horrible Poet.

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