Day: November 1, 2019

The oil mill igbo mmiri split and spat out four units

one for Eke, Afo, Orie na Nkwo

Iyiafo weeps

Over invoked Ofor laments the kwashiorkor
that now afflicts Ogu

since fast tongued twisters took our state and sold us ash as salt

Ogu, not ofor, is the abused, when the aggressor claims and seizes it. Truth freezes, his empires ceases,

he is nwanyi ukwu aru
her steps and gait
always dancing and prancing even when oppression and falsehood wear her down, trap her soul
her steps dance any other stories but her sadness,

your affliction is your possession
if you possess, package and exploit it –
Uwa wu so packaging

The craters in Owerri,
coated in mechanics greasy rags
dishivelled plastic, bits and odd ends, brimming with thick dirty mud sauce
drink cars, swallows trucks

Wet baking ovens,
Owerri craters paint tyres, lubricate, wrestle. rusticate and retire ball joints

Their gaping yawning jaws
jeer at and jab away
at the rust mud maligned,
dirt and murk soaked
undercarriages of tired cars and weeping SUVs, groaning and creaking as they creep and crawl in this sea dirt and misery, born from the greed of big men with undersized minds……

Otamiri, please rescue us
from the rot and rust
leftovers of looters who came garbed as our rescuers.