Poetry

I am the story of the old and young… I am human… I am African… I am Art… I am History… That which you seek and find… The knowledge that builds tomorrow… That which your researches and …

THE road remembers their footsteps even when the dust has forgotten their names. Three shadows once walked here, lean as young iroko shoots, trading laughter like palmwine, trading arguments like …

There are mornings when the light enters the room as if it has been carrying her name all night, soft at the edges, unsure whether to knock or simply spill …

And when the year turns like a calabash in careful hands, we gather at the edge of the night where the old moon loosens its grip on the frayed hem …

December lands in Lagos like a push notification bright warning, no mute button. Harmattan dust floats between flyovers and Instagram stories, and the air thickens with premium expectations. Not gratitude, …

WE gather now in the register of the familiar, not to announce beginnings, not to scatter rice at the steps of a church or throw bouquets of flowers, nor to …

They enlisted in 1955, feet steady on the red earth, independence on the horizon, uniforms crisp against the wind of doubt, eyes lit with a flame that said: we too …

Animal Farm The farm is Nigeria, its soil red and dark with promise, its air thick with fame and slogans. Once, the animals rose hooves pounding like drums, horns lifted …

In the eloquent water of the River Between Minnows argue the terror of the shark Rifted mountains hold hands Across a vast and breathless silence A soil unspeakably rich: Red-rooted …

(I) – Aríkúyẹrí On a cold morning, a tender heart watched Jericho fall again with scars that wouldn’t fade, reminding him of the memory of loss When sorrow dwells in …