Born To Die

Every baby's cry announces arrival to live
But mine announces desire to leave
From the minute am born
Everyone knows I won’t last
Because I carry unfortunate blood
Unfortunate blood that I didn’t choose
Unfortunate blood Imposed on me by nature
Yes, it flows in my vein
Blood is life
Life is in the blood
But mine carries death sentence

Mama, why do this to me?
Papa, do I really deserve this?
Even if you don’t mind my short stay
Must the stay be agonizing?
Even if you had money to lavish
Must I bear the pains of your wish?
Must this little life of mine be soaked in crisis?
Must I be coming and going in cycle of sickle?

Every trip on this journey
Gives me a new name that isn’t mine
Some call me Abiku
Others shout Ogbanje
Some even mutilate my lifeless body
To stop me from coming again
But am I the culprit?

I have the desire to live
But the fire in my bones won’t let me
If mama cared for my life more than emotions
I wouldn’t carry this blood
If papa hadn’t lived in ignorance
I would have been spared this agony

Have you seen me in crisis?
Every cell in me is a cell
A cell that cages dreams
A cell that cages life
You need to feel my pains to know
Groan to the world that it is heartless
For whatsoever reason
To give life to one that is born to die.


Did I hear you say we all shall die?
Tell me, how many live for death
How many count their days to the grave?
How many live a life of crises?
Dying only becomes sweet
When life has given you a chance to live first

Not so with me
The one that starts dying in the womb
Dying daily in my sickle cells
Cells of pain and agony
Painfully dying gradually
Though I have strong desire to live
I still must pray to leave soon
I must bow to the fire burning in my bones
Don't watch me die in groans
Somebody save me from this blood of death!

The Triumph of A Dream

Martin had a dream
Martin shared the dream
Many heard the dream
Few caught the dream

Some soaked the dream in wine
Some held the dream in arms
Others stained the dream with blood
Many gave up the dream
Few pursued the dream...
... with their blood

Sing the triumph of the dream
Triumph that no weapon could give
Triumph that blood could not secure
Tears made no difference
Words simply turned a waste of saliva
Only sweat gave the triumph

Not the sweat of fear
Nor the perspiration of anxiety
Sweat welled up by days in libraries
Sweat streamed out by months of doggedness
Hard was the sweat that gave the triumph

Triumph that weapons could not win
Triumph that blood could not secure
Triumph that words failed to bring
Triumph won simply by sweat
Sweat of hard work and diligence

Martin had a dream
Obama caught the dream
America now lives the dream

How Time Flies!

I can’t believe it’s 19 years since we first met

It’s fresh and feels like yesterday

I heard her tiny yet melodious voice 19 years ago

Saw and admired the sleeping beauty 19 years ago

She was my first experience of love-at-first-sight

I carried her in my arms and beheld a new me

I can’t believe it’s 19 years since I first loved her

Fist of Joy

On the last hurdle of the “teens” club

My baby has come of age

We‘ve grown together for 19 years

In smiles and frowns

In cry and laughter

In fears and joys

For 19 years

Like a character in a movie

I have watched my love

Grow from baby to lady

For 19 years

I have watched events shaping her life

And participated where I could

What has the “teens’ club” done to you?

What did you do with youthful exuberance?

Any stint with juvenile delinquency?

Anything to remedy within this last hurdle?

Should there be anything left to catch or let go

Before you clock-in on your second decade

It’s never too late to brace up.

My one and only is 19

The baby turned lady

Is gradually leaving the teenagers’ club

Happy Birthday Fisayo!