Happy World Poetry Day

 

Poetry is an interesting genre of literature. It is a great way to express yourself. Different cultures of the world somehow have poetry embedded in them. This is why poetry should be paid attention to, as a unique way of expression.

You might like to know some things about poems:

1.      They are written in lines and stanzas

2.      They have rhythms which give them that musical feeling

3.      They mostly feature the use of sound devices such as, alliteration and assonance

4.      They feature some figures of speech

5.      Repetition of some words is employed for emphasis in most poems

6.      Poetry also employs the use of imagery to enrich its language

Some common types of poems;

1.   Free verse poem: As the name implies,  it is a poem with no particular structure. Most free verse poems have run on lines.

2. Octave: This is a poem or a stanza of eight lines

3. Acrostic poem: This type of poem spells a word with the first letters of all its lines

4.  Rhyme Poems. Poems are interesting to read, when some words rhyme in sounds

5. Sonnet: This is a poem of fourteen lines.

      

     Light Up

Making people happy makes me feel

Responsible

Sometimes this is hard but

 

Determination always wins

Although it appears futile

Never give up on passion

 

Just like a glowing light

Uniqueness stands us out

Making us special

But only when we move

Out of the ordinary

 

I am sure you can figure out what type of poem this is.

Happy World Poetry Day!

A Twist of FATE

 

The Journey…

Hope smiled with tears in her eyes, she couldn’t think of anything else, except that he was going away and she might not get to see him again. She hesitantly took a step then took his outstretched hands and hugged him. She couldn’t explain what happened to her in that short moment, she just knew she quickly pulled away.

    “I wish you the best,” she said.

    “Yeah, me too,” Lanre replied, with a sad look in his eyes.

    “You have to leave now Lanre.” She started to walk inside the compound.         “…And thank you for coming,” she added and disappeared inside.

This is a story of a young girl, who lost all her family members in a ghastly car accident and was left all alone in a cold world. Hope Eze, came out of a coma, to realize that she had to live and survive without a family. Her life took a turn after she met Mrs. Bakare who decided to take her in, like a daughter. Everything was going on fine for her, until Lanre Bakare, the only son of the Bakares showed up.

Hope was faced between two decisions of going for what she wanted and what she needed.  She headed in a direction which launched her into the next phase of her life. It was a journey of pain, sacrifice and a twist.

 

 

Edith. A. Dan Jumbo 

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The Eye of Reward

A story by Edith Okesinachi Dan Jumbo

1

Mma Sets Out

It was a cool evening, in the village of Ohafia.  Most of the villagers had closed up on the activities of the day and were planning to retire to bed. The night always seemed longer in the village because the villagers slept early and the palm trees almost everywhere made the night appeared darker than it should be.

Mma picked up the firewood she had tied in a bunch for the aged woman who lived some houses away. She always saw Nne, as she was popularly known, most times when returning from the stream.  Mma was the first of three children, but she was known to be very industrious and liked helping people. She followed her mother to the farm, and would push the wheel barrow from a long distance to their house. She often begged her mother to allow her give some of their farm products to some less privileged ones around them. Everyone loved Mma, because she was so compassionate.

When Mma decided to be fetching water and getting firewood for Nne, some of the villagers frowned at it, because they believed Nne had some evil omen about her. Nne was childless and lost her husband the previous year, but instead of the villagers to pity her, they blamed her for being childless and for the death of her husband. They accused her of eating all her children in the spirit world and later killing her husband.  Some even openly called her a witch. Mma knew that it was a mere accusation, probably because Nne was not from Ohafia originally, until after marriage.

Mma’s mother, however, had a different opinion of Nne, in fact, it was as a result of her testimony of Nne that made Mma decide that she would always help Nne as much as she could. When Obiora, Mma’s mother was newly married, Nne stood for her like the mother she lost when she was still a girl. She always advised her and would come to bath her child whenever she gave birth. Mma got to know about this much later as she grew and decided to help the old woman more, after her husband died.

Mma quickly went inside to inform her mother that she was going to Nne’s house.

“Mama”, she called, “I am going to drop the firewood at Nne’s house.”

“Okay Nnenne” her mother replied. Mma always loved it, whenever her mother called her by that pet name. “Make sure you don’t take long, so that you return before it gets really dark” her mother continued.

“I will come back on time Mama don’t worry, “Mma assured her mother. “I hate walking alone in the dark too”. With that, she carefully placed the tied up firewood on her head and started walking away.

                                                               2

Mma Meets the Prince

The crickets were already singing their night song by the time Mma got to Nne’s house. That reminded her that she didn’t need to stay long before her mother would start getting worried. She quickly dropped the firewood where she normally dropped them and looked towards Nne’s sitting room. There appeared to be someone with her, because she could hear a man’s voice.

“Good evening Nne “she greeted, “I have brought the firewood that I promised to bring for you”

“Mmasinachi, is that you?”  Nne asked. Please come my daughter. Thank God for bringing you now and thank you for the firewood. May the good lord in heaven, continue to bless you. Come my daughter, God really wanted you meet with the prince today.

Mma became confused. “Nne, what are you talking about? What prince?”

Nne came out, when she noticed that Mma didn’t move. “The Eze’s son Mma, he is the Prince and we were just talking about you”

“Nne, I don’t understand.” Mma said spreading her hands.

“The Prince came to see me and asked after the girl who always brings firewood for me, and you just came” Nne tried to explain with a kind of smile that said to Mma; “you should understand”

“But Nne, that’s nothing, I do that for my mother and you are like my grandmother” Mma said a bit uneasy, because she noticed the curtain from the sitting room has been moved. “Oh no, he is coming out” she thought. “Nne, I have to go now, Mama said I shouldn’t stay long” she said walking away, when the Prince‘s voice stopped her.

“Don’t tell me that you are running away from me” he said with a smile, now he was standing between her and Nne.

“No sir” Mma replied. “Good evening” she greeted in a shaky voiced. “Mma, what is wrong with you?” she asked herself. She hated meeting strangers and always shrank back from meeting people especially the opposite sex. Her mother believed, that it was a major reason why she was yet to be married like some of her mates. Although she just turned twenty few months ago, Mma still looked younger and  prettier than her age mates.

“I am Eyinnaya” he introduced himself. Mma quickly looked up at him and drew a lot from that quick glance. He was dark and a little bit above average height. He was dressed in a simple shirt and black trousers, one would pass him for just any foreigner in the village, because he dressed nothing like a prince. “He is good looking too “she thought. Mma, although inexperienced, knew a good looking man when she saw one. “ I have to go Sir, my mother will start getting worried if I delayed further” she said looking up at Nne, who was just smiling and saying nothing, hoping that she would help her leave on time.

“She is not just hardworking” Prince Eyinna said to Nne, “she is also beautiful and well behaved” Mma felt like the ground should open, she was now sweating and squeezing her hands. “Is he trying to make me uncomfortable or what?” she wondered.

The Prince looked at her hard for a few minutes then asked: “Will you marry me?”

Mma looked up at him, and suddenly, boldness came into her. “What if I say no Prince? Will you spare me?”

The Prince smiled “ I liked you, because every time I come to visit Nne, I see a big bunch of firewood and when I ask how she gets them, she says “Mma brings them for me”, but with this question you asked now, I see you as someone with a mind of her own” he looked harder at her now. “Of course, I will spare you if you say no, you are not my slave, but I don’t want you to say no, because I think I am falling in love with you.

Mma didn’t know what to say, she kept swallowing salivia. “Please, let me think about it” she said.

“Yes, my Prince, let her think about it, you know she was not expecting it” Nne finally spoke up.

It was a strange proposal and Mma didn’t know how to handle it. She had to let her parents know too, especially her mother. Something told her that her mother would be thrilled.

Mma was right, her parents were happy with the news, it was like a dream for her father, to be associated with royalty. The crowned prince of Ohafia was interested in his first daughter. It was a miracle. Mma finally saw reasons to accept the prince’s proposal after hearing words again from him, through Nne, who also spoke well of the Prince and encouraged her.

Coincidentally, Nne was also nice to the Prince’s mother and the Prince wanted to pay her back somehow, so from time to time, whenever he was around, he would visit her and give her a small gift. As time passed, it was time for him to get a bride, he wanted a girl from his village, who would be his queen and be by his side at all times.

For Mma, it was God at work, who would think that there was someone else out there who was indebted to Nne like she was, and to think that it was the Eze’s son. While she did everything she did  out of a good heart, an invisible eye was watching and paid her back with a man who shared her passion for people. Above all, Prince Eyinnaya was such a humble man, who never put his social class before the people. The people of Ohafia loved him, and it made it so easy for Mma, as future Queen of Ohafia.

Mma had to deal with the Queen's opinion of her social class. Keep following to find out what happened next...

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I AM

I am

Energetic
Determined
Inspiring
Thoughtful and
Harmless

I am Edith

AMINA

A short story by Daniel Omale

photo credit: Africanquarters.com

“Move away from the wall!” 

Amina screamed in a suppressed voice like a desperate, mad woman. 

“Those devils might see you,” she cried. 

We have been hobbled here for three days, three dark days. Every passing dead day thickens the terror that gripped our hearts. Such morbid fear that makes the streaming rays of the noon day sun that drips through the holes on the roof stab our hearts with terror, such great terror that drives us to cringe ourselves into the darkest corner of this single room. This room that somehow has become our refuge, our prison and may be our grave. Death’s been everywhere in this village for three days and four nights, but Amina and I have managed to elude it only for this long. 

As I heard rasping footsteps approaching the door, I moved toward the window to get a peek through the eye-sized hole on the wall created by a raging stray bullet below the wooden window that we have tightly shut since we took refuge here that night. As I peeked with my good right eye, I could see nothing but dust, death and decaying corpse left bare in the open street. Although the rasping sound of steps was only a bold confused rat running around the abandoned school seeking for a hole to hide. But now every single approaching sound violent or stealthy drowns us anew in fire of fear. This was such a brutal baptism to feel death lurking around, daring you, mocking you, letting you know. ‘I’ve got you, you are mine.’ 

Such silent sound that echoes within the silence of your racing heart; such vicious voice that whispers in your ear every moment; ‘ I’ve got you.’ 

But four nights ago, life was normal. I had come to school as always bare-footed but desperate for knowledge. I was filled with a heavy hunger to learn. A passionate desire to live high and above the ignorance and illiteracy that is eating up my village and its inhabitants. It was mid-May. As I galloped through the dusty path that lead to my classroom, it felt like running toward the light hanging lamp-like in the horizon, like approaching the last point on a treasure map where the gold, diamonds and all kinds of precious stones are stowed up. I dashed into the classroom and Miss Amina was there the earliest as usual waiting patiently and calmly for her students. As I crashed in through the door and prostrated in greeting, she nodded her head in response, and beckoned to me to take my seat. I was always the first student to arrive school every day. Yet no matter how early I get to school, Miss Amina would always be there waiting. She is a young but a fountain of knowledge, she teaches Math, science and English Language in my school; the only school that serviced nine villages yet most of the classrooms are empty. Owing to the threat the dreaded terrorist group placed on our village if parents dared to send their wards to acquire a formal education. 

Amina told us once; “Don’t ever be afraid to come to school and learn, knowledge is power and you need that power,"she told us. "Gaining knowledge will make us powerful enough to put an end to all forms of confusion and problems we have around us". 

And when she spoke, we all sat still and drank. We drank of her voice, we drank of her knowledge, we drank of her wisdom, and she had wisdom in abundance. She told us to call her Amina, and not Miss Amina, that she was our friend. Amina broke down the walls terror and ignorance had built around our hearts and mind and set us free. She gave us the key to become conquerors of evil and terror. Like when I was able to read my first word: ‘Balarabe’ it is my name. I have never seen it written before. ‘It means a son born on the first day before Friday,’ Amina said.

Miss Amina taught me the magic of letter sounds, and she held my hands and showed me how to build words on paper with a pencil. I felt the joy of conquering the darkness of illiteracy. I felt the light of stepping into the world of western wisdom that the terrorist group threatening my village antagonize so brutally.

Just before the close of school; there was pandemonium, a chaotic confusion coming from the outskirts of the village heralded by the loud blast of machine guns, and the killing cry of terror. 

My school has three classroom building, and one administrative building; all constructed in a rectangular form without walls to separate it from the rest of the village. The Bushigas arrived the school on an open-air van shooting sporadically. I counted forty armed men shooting with direct aim at students and teachers they moved between class rooms,  killing everyone in sight. I asked Miss Amina to follow me,  and we entered a room where broken desks tables and chairs were parked. We shut the window and laid face-down on the ground. The attack lasted for five hours. The Bushigas killed all the male students and male teachers in sight and they took the girls hostage. The gory stories of their adventures with the female teachers and students cannot be relieved on these pages.