A million days still counting against CHIBOK and here we begin a new census for DAPCHI, that which chronicles the ruins of dark Centers.

Look at our daughters They now show no ill in laying with men old as their fathers Look at our sons Nothing is holding them back from scamming the green people with their bad brain and laptops Look at our mothers, fathers, the young men and alike; women, They now...

Once upon a time In a country I call mine There rose a broom party Fed by change clothed sympathy   An entity of old wine in a new skin A unity of souls, so selfishly mean Cobbled together by a sole interest To grab the treasury’s crest   They...

(…a tribute in respect of the honour conferred on him by President Muhammadu Buhari) Kashimawo, “Let us wait and see” so They said but Heroes don’t die, No. They are the colours of the rainbow and possess the heart of the sun. They are eagles soaring on time’s wings, alphabeting...

Yesterday was Theirs they bemoaned Guma’s…fall Today, ours we tell of Mbalom’s… unripe pause; and Tomorrow, sure, shall be history’s reawakening in Mama’s four forks for ours is a land of milk and bloods, of the basket full of fractured flesh, of curtains and thunderstorms where The maze has been...

doctored or un-doctored, black or white, he is only human for though the sun kings today, tomorrow shall be the moon’s. lies or truths; we deserve some white words so we can appease our souls and boycott the many laughters of the human race; pistol dukes. we are all lunatics...

Come, Let’s all go a hunter to the bank of Benue river for there could be the Python(s) that bank(s) the wealth of a nation; and not flesh or eggs, or fertile Aso rats, no more as desserts. Wait! Let’s chew again some sweet fables how green is Green’s grass...

With him is one walk to meeting a monster for trademarked with broken shells is the life that gives life to charcoal face(s) and lips upon canvas’ all painted with stitches, and fire laden eyeballs; And with white wrapped wild weed, the patriotic folk in-between fingers or lips that winds...

How can the flower blossom when the Garden ebbs in cancer? Who will notice our tears in dark rains to restore? …and whose hands will saviour who dines unsublime? Today is libyans, a tale we tell of Escapees; but to wither a leper in this Ancestry or war- through a...

Your night came as whirlwind sweeping the tides to thorns and misery. For love, you became unioned in a scandal whose hero jailed truth for white lies.   Kirikiri unfleshed your dreams, dreams fractured by crucified Sikiru, ‘SARS’ bound, and your days, five years a slave, and two preys planted...