Posted in Uncategorized

Reflections on Today’s Readings on wisdom by Noel Ihebuzor – onye nkuzi

Today’s first reading on Wisdom struck a deep chord in me. It was not so much in its listing of the benefits of Wisdom or in its presentation of Wisdom as a woman as in the fact that the readings challenged one to reflect deeper on the true meaning and indicators of Wisdom.

What then is wisdom? Is it knowledge? Is it accumulated knowledge? Is it applied knowledge used for problem solving purposes? Is it intelligence, good sense, proper discernment, ability to navigate moral and social dilemmas, pragmatism, context dependent decision making, love of God born from fatalism, accommodation of neighbour driven by instrumental transactional considerations?

What then is this wisdom? Is it cognitive intelligence with a strong lacing of emotional intelligence? How would Igbo, my mother tongue help in getting me to the conceptual clarity that I seek? The Igbos have the following words that relate in some way or the other to the word WISDOM. They are Ako, Uche, Izu, Amamihe, Mmuta, Nwota, Echiche oma….. Which of these best translates wisdom? Or is wisdom nothing else but the breath of God’s spirit blowing in us and showing us the way to true and enduring values and choices?

I do not have answer but I can identify the absence of Wisdom whenever I come across it. The absence of Wisdom manifests itself by its lack of humility, by the presence of hubris caused by hamartia, by arrogance, by pride, by gross insensitivity, insolence, absence of empathy and emotional intelligence and excessive self focus. These vices were part of Donald Trump’s undoing – a reality which reminds us that victory is always in the long run with those who possess wisdom and who seek after her. Theirs shall be the fruits promised in Galatians 5: 22-23.


Posted in Poetry

Peace and Pieces on a Chessboard


Noel A. Ihebuzor


On an uneven chessboard, across

boundaries of squares, fading

lines almost erased by coarse rough moves

pawns lurch around in drunken

lounging leaps



To the beckon and rhythm of the imperious,

rooks regal in a flurry of frenzied

moves, cavort in wobbly diagonal swoops

the dance of hubris revs and raves,

in the dawning madness

sense swims poorly and eventually drowns



We sit and watch the king’s ungainly ambles

the queen’s sauntering about

all over and everywhere

in kinky dizzying circles and cycles

in spins like a dancer

possessed and guided by the moon



Voice hoarse with passion, she

chants the moon is mine

that star is yours

but the sun is mine, mine to have and hold

as I please



And in this maddening clamour

of screams and scrambles like from fevered dreams

all that emerges,

ugly like a noisy fart at prayers

is a fight for portions of a cake

we did not bake

but “reason” now belongs to treason

to the loud and the lewd



Pawns and persons move,

associations form and un-form,

permanence is fluid

fluidity, permanent



During this dance of pawns and rooks,

of crooks, new saints,

canonized in their halls of infamy

play new strains of strange chimes of fiefdom

suggestive of floating notes

from tunes of thiefdom



In these moves and countermoves

the loudest is always right

the cloak of might and night

threatens the light of truth



Soon the haze of a dawning evening

catches pawns, bishops, king, queen and knights

unawares, night soon blankets them,

while the stars above blink and wink

at the now dispersing crowd,

seduced and befuddled onlookers

still clutching the half full bowls of porridge

for which they sold their soles and souls

and pawned their very voices