Tell it to the mountains // tell it out loud that the world might hear // Wax up the steep and rugged hills, journey the valleys and fountains // tell them! oh tell them now that they are near

So, are boys really a 'special' burden to raise? Is Life itself is a lot of work. Is parenting itself is a lot of work. Is raising girls also not a lot of work? What useful thing in this world does not require lots of work? Why just boys? Why...

Nche did not bother bantering with the pupils lining his path. The gutter surrounding Santa Maria Church was already littered by pupils with their lunch packs, eating and japing. The stairs was reserved for the big kids and the bullies and others rich enough to buy ice cream, though the...

I am my own chariot and warrior Winning battles without collecting enemies’ lots It is queasy If my quiver is full of breathless warriors What sound of gong is sweet for the dance? As you stepdown from the cloudy hilltop Let cavalry full your pocket And your shoes like the...

I am my own chariot and warrior Winning battles without collecting enemies’ lots It is queasy If my quiver is full of breathless warriors What sound of gong is sweet for the dance? As you stepdown from the cloudy hilltop Let cavalry full your pocket And your shoes like the...

after Adedayo Adeyemi Agarau’s “For boys who went’ For Boys of Shattered Dreams… Their bones fragment on earth’s closure Like the punctured walls of Borno — A preposition of dreams and death Binding the encrimson of dirges Searching home on their lips Like an owl finding haven in the burning...

You abiku ! Why do you come and go? Go! And bother no more my soul. Your ghost was here, Before I could pen your image, You blow off my palm oil lantern Again You fade into the air. Many of your pregnancies I miscarried, Be born now, Be not...

These barracks don’t favor civilians It’s for the un-blooded We don’t remember our mortality off-hand So we face guns and bombs empty handed The armory is our heart And the will to survive is the only arm We are bred here, in these streets Far from Eden, closer to reality...

The veins of our children, Lacked blood…dried pipes. Swimming in dehydrated waters, Dripping in sweats of shame. The eyes of our children, Lids are glued…scary sights seen, Their eyes have seen lifeless bodies, Why won’t they die young. The robes of our children, A carpet for hungry termites, Chewed in...

O child, our hope and our joy, Don’t play with your life like toy, Whether you’re a girl or a boy, Allow no one, your future, to destroy! O child, please, use your brain well, Your great destiny no one can tell, Announce your decision with a bell,‎ Ring it:...