The dead are not silent....they speak and regret their action..they observe live from a different view and see futilities in our base vanities.. this poem Didactic in nature portrays their stories in a moral form. "Let's live life conscious of when we would die"👼

If you meet the Eponymous character of the poem, you would know that.. all these sweet words instead of flatter, just scratch the surface of her exquisite nature. Read well beautifuls

Christmas hasnt always been jingle belley....you could verify from the tons of Biafrans killed on a Christmas some fifty years ago. a fun way to retell history. putting all the gruesome past in an enlightened piece. keeping people in the know of their past and at the same time not letting them be negatively affected by it

The history of Nigeria is like a board..better things should be written down, but unfortunately we require better leaders for that. Can we get those leaders? Or should we let time do what it does to an unpreserved meat to us?.....decay?...all those is up to how we view out situation and are willing to help

to rediscovery of African traditions and unwesternizing if Africa a trilling fiction to retell our story

anthology on Black Africa

Tribute To Deborah Chioma Once it happened, many times it has happened afterwards. Christians, Igbos being killed in Nigeria for their faith, tribe and culture by fanatics and extremists......and the world does absolutely nothing about it. Her blood would forever stain out country's white flag. and heavenly justice shall come Amen

A collection of poems and notes with inspiration drawn from everything and nothingness. Enjoy! ♡

Should the blood spilled be in vain. Never!!.....my ancestors blood can't go for nothing while I have mine flowing in me. I must retell the story somehow. I must retell it with this poem anthology

Imagery, is intense when we describe the things we feel..when we pour our hate against what holds us down. needless to say, the Nigerian government has given the citizenry many reasons to cry..so here I am as a writer crying with my pen....letting my inky tears paint my sorrows...HERE I AM CRYING WITH MY PEN