PENMIND MEDIA & CREATIVITY

One will not be wrong to say that ever since crude oil was discovered and subsequently exported in commercial quantity, the destiny of Nigeria has been tied to it. This is because there is a positive relationship between the price of oil in the global market and the Nigerian economy. When the price soars, we enjoy and, if otherwise, we suffer. This is a very disheartening reality that we have come to accept but why is this so? Let’s go down memory lane a bit. Prior to the discovery of oil and its subsequent exportation, agriculture was the mainstay and driver of the Nigerian economy. One cannot but yearn for the good old days when Nigeria prided itself as the major exporter of cocoa (from the west), palm and rubber (from the east) groundnut ( from the north) and the likes. Major infrastructures that have stood the test of time were built from the proceeds of agriculture. Testimony to this assertion can be found in schools like Obafemi Awolowo University, University of Nigeria, N

You've turned me into a slave In the castle (of your love),  And you feed me with nought,  As I suffer hunger (even beyond the marrow)  Love with pretence,  Slavery with gladness!  Is this love uncircumcised?  If it's YES! I am to be in this captivity forever,  Just dash me a remnant from your table side,  I swear!  A simple touch shall do a perfect healing.  You choose the modern gangsters over me,  You shout my name with  Your semi-civilised lips°that :               I'm barbaric,                I'm crude!  Your proofs are wanting...  ''You don't tiptoe and bend while you walk,  You have no tattoos,  You don't treat your face,  Your hair is hard and never deflowered,  Not even a punk as hairstyle,  And your trousers are not 'pencil-shaped'.  Then, shall I embrace all these  All because of this 'compatibility'?  The simplicity of ME that you condemn  Is even still complex i

A. When you will be going to a place of belonging Do not falter that you die not of my longing B. As a thirsty soul in the scorching sun looks for water So will you desperately want me among mortal A. Surely, you have longed for a peace maker Now, come be comforted on my three seater B. Better for a bird to pitch its tent to the voice of falconer So that "she" will not be lonely in time in one corner A. Stop wandering about in parentheses Come dwell straightly in my sentences B. What a good decision to concur A jewel of honour like bracelets must you secure A. I know you'll love to dine and die in my bossom My response "yes" is scornfully awesome B. Don't dwell on the lane of scornfulness But be transparent as light in abyss of wilderness A. The falconer has blown the wrong whistle The falcon is gone elsewhere in search for stronger pistol B. Don't twist the untwisted tongue for wrong prophecy But mini

Wish I could know who you really are So that I can give to you a Taylor-made care I wish I could know when next you are in need So that I can be there just in time to cater for it I want to be your bow when you decide to fire your arrow Would like to be your umbrella when it starts to rain Or your duvet when it really gets cold I want to build a love ship as you embark on this journey So that i can keep you safe when the tide gets higher Your pleasure becomes my pleasure, your taste becomes mine too And together we create something greater than magic A friendship that can only be referred to as made-in-heaven So my dear if you could show me who you really are I promise to take you to a little town, so beautiful that you'll have to call home A home where unforgettable memories will surely be built And everything we dare to touch, immediately turns to gold © Michelle N and K Adio 

Go into the world  And tell those who are weak and heavy laden to chill and relax, Tell them to be strong like Paul and Silas; For their tears will be wiped out. Blessed are those who've waited long for change For they shall be transformed, Blessed are those whose universities are vast cities of atrocities For they shall be protected. Blessed are those who fought for us In the war front For they shall be victorious, Blessed are those in the slum, whose neighbours are now rats and mosquitoes For they shall be filled with good health. Blessed are those politricians, who claimed to be saint For they shall have their gain as pain, Blessed are those aborted babies, who could've become a better future leaders For they shall be given the grace to live again. Blessed are those men of the underworld For they shall drink their own blood, Blessed are you Oh! Nigerians with hope of a better tomorrow For your cups will overflow with milk and

As harmattan decided to walk back into our cocoons With trembling sound and dashing feet Catapulting cold to our blood stream That made us think it's a film trick As mother earth raised up dust To welcome the arrival of a new dawn That can never fade as a nail rust So we all rise up and yawn As this clutching season is back With steps of a masquerade Galloping into our souls without ease Making us to shiver like a busy diva As this rumbling weather now act as a welder  Merging bodies with whiteness  We too have learnt to walk like soldiers Shaking the earth with our feet and saying no to cold. © Sunsampaul Egwu Philosopher Sunsampaul4globe@gmail.com

Dear Dojiya     I have the hope of a pregnant woman that you sure are well. Though the weather is becoming un-becoming-ly cheery in heat just to shift the hour hand off harmmattan, I am with the strongest conviction that the blood chain of ancestral traits are in the love of nature against the tides of the odds. The soothsayers of education, say that education  is the complete development of the whole being; ethically mannered, psychologically stable, spiritually nourished, physically fit, mentally sound and intellectually adjusted. A tree has got a lot of shade, but buttocks can only occupy an area proportional to its size. Therefore, the end of children schooling is a bile in my food.  Since 2012, the academic performance of students has been declined with so much noises made on what possibly is breastfeeding this prodigious efficiency miser. Acerbic punctures have been thrown to the guiding angels of these students. Worst of those attacking militants are the societal hy

Unto this day my soul patiently wait When the journey to the holy of holies is embraced I waited gladly as child clinching to the nursing breast Sweating profusely like the wanderer in the wilderness of the west Searching for a hole where treasure is kept. Sonorous songs of solidarity reverberate the room As the gateway gives way in exploring the abyss of the gloom And the luscious ancient rod is employed to pick up the treasure That is so immeasurable than the sands of the shore But the fishing net can't draw all the fishes in the red sea to the fore I didn't wish to respond the calling of the power house But the magnetic field is irresistible to its customers The more I run the more I move nearer Because the branches under the supervision of Eve is everywhere I keep on running until I reach the Junction of nowhere Almost all great warriors of ages lost their integrity in abyss Because of the natural law that needs to be paid in levies

The time the land embattled with hunger, Through the sole alliance with poisonous sea, Hope stirs in the seed, theobroma’s casket. My blood flows than sea-even If sun licks the gore of my vein Restlessly, drying cocoa in the sun. Let cocoa enslave my land, let money invades my pouch Give the pod the right to grave the seed Give the machete to slaughter the pod My blood flows than sea-even If sun licks the gore of my vein Restlessly, drying cocoa in the sun. Shall I diagnose the bowel of my cocoa? Make the seed the lord Luring me to dry in the sun Cocoa, eternal lord of my pouch. My blood flows than sea-even If sun licks the gore of my vein Restlessly, drying cocoa in the sun. Let the gentle merchants shield their wealth With arsenal of Theobroma’s  casket ‘Cos this paradise glows with mammon  If your compass locates the land. My blood flows than sea-even If sun licks the gore of my vein Restlessly, drying cocoa in the sun.

Mind traversed myriad levels of uncertainty Wings are weakened, my neglected home is calling Accept me in the softness of your merciful heart Let me see paradise in your angelic conversation Wounded wanderer falls at your pool for healing. The last time we traveled to the blazing moon Intertwining pleasure of time on stressless dome We hoped for evening of morning and night of afternoon Snow-like coldness of the night fails to untie heat cramps We scored the reverberating echoes of lovers’ nightingales. I responded the magnetic call of marketers of other road I left the poor happiness for decorated stainless sting All ways are ways but ways bellies confusion in abyss I’m thirsty on the path of wilderness awaiting rain of tears I’m at the junction of life decisions, kindly help this flimsy thought. I saw the rising winds of consciousness that uprooted ignorance I saw the lamentations of caged birds on mountain of deception I saw the nurtured pr

EDITOR'S NOTE: This is a collection of poems that focuses on sadness, resulting to unforgettable scars in the heart as a result of the death of love one. Damisola Omole, with powerful words, reveals that her father lives in her heart even after his death.         KINDLY READ/DOWNLOAD THE COLLECTION       

Wait for me in the terrace of the sliding leaf Stainless feather meandering splashing firmament I’m at the humble corner of green shadows of palms Intertwining golden twigs and demolishing hornet’s nest Tales by moonlight in thick dawn of rising eastern sun. Frame of hopeful map hung at bodily block of pedantic heart Rough trail of efflorescing beatitude crisscrossed request Wings of seraphim attached skin to equate the racing breeze Plight of falconer lingers in the boiling mind of tied wingy wings Brightening lines magnetizes the baseless sharp whitish claws. Plumes retrenched gummy field of ageless commandment Death of identification at the altar of many bitter cascading dirges Red, not red of fruitful roses, but redness of clothing stigma of hades Thirst of blood on land of waters; search of body in world of decaying souls Parables of the wind on weakened pulpit of elders of birdbrain and cobwebs. Mourning dove begot the evening sparrow of

Blazing excellence we call our pride And on its horse we’ll unanimously ride In togetherness we can rebuild its broken wings That is hanging in the dust of dawn of many tings The neglected dirty cloth can be whiter than snow. The dead lamp at the old gate has been rekindled And this call our numerous drums must jingled Farmers should inform the labourers in the sunset Liberty lies in this conjugation of musing minds onset And the west wind of change will wake the languid flag.  Sharpened chisels from appropriate quarters spring to fore To whittle down this dried wood of thirsty throat at the shore Light leads us to our destination; it’s time to lead the light home And glorious honours among mortals in our appellation form The rising and setting of our descendant will on this hope lay. Dash your doubt on this cliff, for this basket will fetch water Truly they are far above us; our unified strength they can’t alter Their horizons of accompli