Agbada

My dearest friend, Nuella wrote this poem which I love and think is quite true of the "big man" on our streets.

Agbada; the flowing side weaved robe,
usually embroidered, draped on strong shoulders
like majesty
worn throughout Nigeria by important men
and each fiber says ceremony.

Agbada, yours is pure white with
gold embroidery. You are pot bellied and
yellow eyed, the signs of a chief,
the signs of one who has consumed beer
and gin for a lifetime; the signs of age.

You roll off white bed sheets that have
been soiled with the scent and sweat of
another woman, the one whose generator fuel
and rent you pay for. The one whose legs part open
for wealthy living. The one who is a validation of
your ‘African masculinity’.  The one whose plan is to marry
you and change her fortunes.
“Husband snatcher”,it will roll off women’s tongues like acid
when they see her with you
wearing her matching iro and buba.

After the weekly deed, you put on your
crisp agbada again, then step into the streets
oozing importance, and prosperity;

Agbada, the cloth of a big man,
“oga oooo!” they hail you exuberantly on the outside
but at home you make your wife feel small,
aren’t you then small for it?

For more of Nuella's poems visit her blog http://nuellaswords.wordpress.com/

Spring Cleaning!

"For there is a time and a way for everything, although man's trouble lies heavy on him."

Ecc 8:6 (ESV)

**cobwebs everywhere**

It's been soo long! I'm so sorry for the Hiatus! (would write a post about what i've been up to later). I've really missed blogging and blogville. In the meantime, I want to share a poem I wrote for an essay competition a few months ago. Let me know what you think :)!

IRETI

The war had raped our land,

taking all that we held dear and considered valuable.

For six years it had taken its toll and turned us into prisoners in our own homes;

Afraid to sleep with our eyes closed or to leave the haven of the ceiling tops.

 For fear was the only food we knew.

 I found solace having you at my bosom.

Ireti, my jewel, my daughter

The doctor had said I wouldn’t conceive.

 Akanni, my husband although sympathetic, had married a second wife.

 Then suddenly you appeared on the scene, wiping all my tears and years of ridicule.

Only for the war to snatch you away, along with every good thing.

 I was at the market square,

 Dancing and jubilating with the entire town folk that an end had finally come to the war.

Unknown to me, the war had dealt a final blow.

Wasn’t it a few hours ago that we were both hurdled in the ceiling?

 When Akanni, your father rushed into the house shouting, announcing the end of the war.

You screamed and jumped into his arms while the other children came out of their hiding places.

As I tied my wrapper in preparation to go to the market square,

 To join the other women in the dance,

 You begged me to let you visit Tinuke your best friend.

I always knew that hers would be your first point of call,

So I smiled and told you to come home early.

 Unknown to me that was the last time I was to see my Ireti.

When I got back and you didn’t greet me at the door,

I was worried.

 I entered your room expecting to see you sleeping, tired from all the playing.

But you were not there.

Akanni said he hadn’t seen you and he had assumed you were with me.

 I ran like a mad woman with your father tailing along to Tinuke’s house.

When Tinuke’s mother said you never came.

The journey of searching for my Ireti began.

It’s been six long years,

since I last beheld your beautiful face.

 Six years of weeping and mourning the loss of my identity.

 Before that faithful day I was “Mama Ireti”,

 the proud mother of a brilliant eight year old.

Since you were declared missing by Akin, the village town crier,

 I have ceased living.

I still look over my shoulders,

 when I hear a girl shout “ Mama”,

Hoping it is my Ireti.

You now have a little brother

and he is looking forward to meeting you.

 I have not given up.

 Some say you might be dead and I’m crazy for still looking,

but I’m not bothered, for I shall find my Ireti under the sun.



Yours sincerely,
Cee

Missing In Action!

Blame exams and advance design studio for kidnapping me away from bloggville. I thank God for successful completion of my first semester in grad school. I wrote these two short poems last year but never got round to posting them.  Hope you like them :)!

I don't like meeting strangers

I don't trust them

No one knows who they really are

They could be wolves in sheep clothing

Or Bonnie and Clyde on a mission

But no one can tell

Strangers may become best friends

And best friends may become strangers

Only Time will tell

He thinks he knows me

Or so he claims

He feels he loves me

Or so he says

But what he doesn't know

Is that what he knows and loves

Is simply a figment of his imagination

Yours sincerly,

Cee

In Pursuiit of Fitness

So one of my goals this year is to be fitter and healthier.

I saw this poem by Susan Lenzkes (2006)

"Lord, what have I gained
if I eat wisely and well but neglect to dine at your table;
if i work out faithfully
while failing to excercise love;
if i give myself to the pursuit of fitness
yet am not fit for Your Kingdom?
Earthly disciplines fortify
the body for a lifetime.
Heavenly disciplines strenghten
the soul for an eternity."

and reading it has made me really think deeply and review that goal. What will it profit Cee to be physically fit and healthy but have spiritual kwashiorkor??! Heaven forbid! So with my healthy meals and work out plan I must most importantly remember my spiritual wellbeing too.



Yours sincerely,
Cee

(image: 100milefitness.blogspot.com)

Beauty

Beauty indeed lies in the eyes of the beholder
what you consider to be beautiful
might just be repulsive to me
 i personally conside the sky as a 'portrait of beauty'
i like the way it has mood swings
one minute its blue and "lovey dovey"
the next its vexed threatening to storm
other times it's blank... giving away no emotion
it's never afraid to express it's true feelings
when it's sad, its never ashamed to let tears drop
when its happy, it beams so much we get sunstrokes
it doesn't care what people think about its thunder
it is void of pretense
i love that no matter what challenge it faces,
especially with this ozone depletion saga
it still takes out time to potray its inner beauty
beauty in the good, bad and ugly
beauty in transparency, honesty and intergrity
there is indeed beauty in diversity

Young Man

So we've met before and you paid for my drink
and i cant even remember your name
it was a very nice gesture but thats where it ends
i've tried so many times to gently let you down
and discourage your advances
i'm getting tired of being nice
don't push me to the wall, young man!

So many times i've thought back to that day in cafe
and i regret letting you pay
i should have been blunt and refused then.
you make me feel bad for not making small talk
but i don't want to start something i won't finish
or maybe i should have pretended not to know you the next day
because i'm getting tired of being polite
don't push it to far, young man!

So you keep intentionally appearing and reappearing everywhere i go.
if i needed a bodyguard, i would have said so
i hate (abhor) stalking of any and every kind.
why can't my short, flippant and monosyllabic replies tell you how i feel?
i don't want to talk today, tomorrow or ever
you are really pushing it, young man!

So we're in the same school and group
i don't hate you or like you
i just dislike people who try to hard and refuse to take rebuttals
i just pray you don't push me to do something stupid or
say something extrimily rude.
i'm really trying to be nice and smile
but you are pushing me to the wall, young man!

Knowing the difference!

I have been told over the years that there is a big difference between real joy and mere happiness.
 between laughing and chuckling
 between singing and humming
 between smiling and grinning
 between crying and weeping
 between young and old
 between not having enough and not having
 between now and later
 between beautiful and fine
 between talking and whispering
 between blushing and beaming
 between love and like
 between a kiss and a peck
 between boys and men
 between a friend and a brother
 between being friends and more than friends
 between a yes and a maybe
 between me and you
 between His will and mine
Lord, help me to really know the difference!