KAINE AGARY’S ‘YELLOW- YELLOW’ CAPTURES NIGER DELTA ‘OIL POLITICS’ IN A WITTY, GRAPHIC MANNER WITH BITING SARCASM  a review by Eugene Yakubu

TITLE: YELLOW- YELLOW AUTHOR: KAINE AGARY GENRE: PROSE FICTION NUMBER OF PAGES: 179 PUBLISHER: DTALKSHOP DATE OF PUBLICATION: 2017 ISBN: 9780708332 (10), 978-9780708337 (13) REVIEWER: Eugene Yakubu Kaine Agary’s ‘Yellow- Yellow’ is a simplistic and humorous narrative that opens up complex issues swirling around ‘oil politics’ in the Niger Delta...

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CASUALTIES

We are casualties again. Placards displayed, songs chanted, Of marginalization and liberation. Wafting through the busy street, Our bodies are left with their injuries. Of their annoyance, We are all casualties again. We are casualties again. Arms brandished, bitter expressions Written all over their faces, anger. Oil Installations up in...

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DANCERS

  Rhythm from drums come calling out of earshot Stomping feet heard from faraway Singers humming tunes from the heaviest of hearts Tunes not strong enough to call out dancers The few that sway to this tune Sway to a dirge from strange times Caused by a leader overwhelmingly chosen...

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WAVES OF FATE…

Parched in this oily trap, with our fates dangling on a swinging rope, We hummed the songs of the fear in our hearts and submitted our case Upon the table of injustice We stand on this trial ground to sign our fears for death Cleaning our faces with rags of...

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WEAVING DOWN

Our coast is weaving down Like a knitted braid Falling fast like ripe cashews Littering the earth in “creche” disgust Flapping sideways like sagged breasts Milked dry by herdsmen. Our rivers like ‘Nassarawa’ deserts Have had it’s busy share Of desperate tourists Making a match to milk and honey Unminding...

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IF AMNESTY IS THE KEY

They carried arms to fight their cause Of ravaged farms and streams of curse They waged their fight with thunderous might Worsening their plight for a future so bright, With flowing blood They threatened the nation’s livelihood. No longer could the nation stand Their violence brand So for the sake...

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WEEPING SOIL

Our land is the source That generates your resource Yet it looks battered Like goods craftily adulterated Heed to our land’s ethics And forget all politics For our lands breastfeed Those seeking tangible deeds Our land is where your remains Will forever remain When your bones Shall fail your flesh...

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