PRAYER OF THE GODS

Prayer of the gods
Osun like the ocean I breathe my peace she says
Clearing the fog forming upon all waters
Purifying all wasteland giving prize meat to their hunters
As Obatala has willed it, through the fortune of Orisa.
Kabio Osi Omo iluu Africa

Chi answers.

To each one I give will to create

from chi-ani plentiful, bountiful harvest to eat
Fertile as the Okija Forest
Covering their hut with rich palm, that only the thatching skill of chi-nkata can display.
With the sword of a warrior I'll reward them

making Ikenga brim with praise

as alusi decorates their body with Isiagu and upon their head okpu agu.

Feasting them with Okporoko and Awa

till they want no more and always

I'll make Eri pour them plenty rain for a earth-full harvest
And my mmuo will among them will habit

Baring my mind through the seeker

They only need know
I am Chukwu. I am Obatala
Through orisa I speak, through amadioha I show myself.

With the divinity of orunmila I bare my mind. With their Alusi my fortune they predict.

To each I have given Ori to take on their destiny.

Using Chiofufo and Chiojiji to mark their time limit.

They shall find my supremacy as olu-orun
I shall breathe through them as chi-ikuku

Healing them when they pay homage to me as sopona.

I shall forever favour their mornings when i rise as chi-agbara.

avenging against their enemies as ogun.
I am Chineke. I am Chi-ukwu
Find me.

the colour of the sky is Red

The colour of the sky is red
Painted in blood, dipped in misery, bronzed in fear.
The colour of hatred is red, veiled in distrust, cladded with suspicion,

embellished in anger,
adorned in sorrow, washed in penury, gloomed in despair

The colour of pain is red, bent in horror
Shadowed in grief, immersed in agony,

infused with shame, pierced with tyranny,

controlled in weakness

                                
The colour of hope is Red.

 Created in Faith, tested with sacrifice.

 Destined for greatness, cheered in clarity.

The colour of life is Red, full of love,

made in deep experience,

built in reasoning, nurtured with truth,

basked in you. You who I call compatriot

The colour of my compatriots is red
Built in pride, supported in team spirit.  
Shaped in one rich history
Etched in one true memory
Refined in one deep brotherhood
Upheld in one fine doctrine
Blessed with this great Continent.

The colour of growth is us
Heart bond to our nativeland
With honour sworn to our tribe

And duty vowed to our motherland,

wearing our culture like a badge of excellence

delivering mankind

The colour of my country is green
lushed in greenery, fruitful in accomplishment,

enthroned in majesty, regaled in royalty,
the colour of red is you and  me

THIS IS WHO I AM

This is who I am
I am your vegetation
luscious and gay, brimming with laughter and joy from the birds and crickets nesting my foray
I am beauty, simmering with alluring flora

I am your sunrise
Glazing your mornings, gently exploring your wanting and yearnings, fusing your faces with bronzes from a  mask god
I am pleasant, dazzling your landscapes, enchanting your skyline with graces and drama
Delighting your day.

I am your mountain
Boosting your ego, propelling your brawn, spurring your might, influencing your height, shielding your pride firming your strength, holding your forte and guarding  your domain with  the joy  of your savannah

I am your river
Smoldering your panorama,
Seething your terrain, with alluring fishes slithering through your waters and ravaging your scenery. Enriching your greenery.  I am your manna

I am your culture
Discerning your customs, teaching the commons, traditions that blossoms, refining your lifestyle, cultivating your ritual, with ornament beaded in comely ivory and the virtue of a goddess, never your karma

I am your people
Building your commonwealth, with language and tribes uniting your races, similar in faces, connecting all mankind
Linked in brotherhood, let this be your mantra, you hold the four aces

I am Africa
Tending my own, not waiting for loan, to care for my throne. nurturing my people, with chronicles and tales of fertility and humanity , budding on booming, waiting on this generation to magnify me in venerations. Yes I  have that power to do all that matters

This is who I am
I am Africa

WHERE IS MY AFRICA?

Where is my Africa?

It's my state of mind.

Where all is calm and peaceful,

With living lofty not dreadful,

And my spirit highly cheerful.

Where is my Africa?

It's my woken dream.

Where dreams are formed and made,

With dues ultimately paid,

If plans are set and laid.

Where is my Africa?

It's my Lilly field of green.

Where ideas brim and nurtured,

In fertile grounds are manured,

And let to grow into pasture.

Where is my Africa?

It's my lofty site of hope.

Where Young’s are ‎spurred to achievement,

With ‎adults as paragon of testament,

For society's honour‎ and wealth. 

WITH A STROKE OF PEN

With a stroke of pen

Pensioners sent to penury

With my pocket filled with jewelry

Pity the poor against the powerful

Pen is mightier than the sword

The fool says,

A zero after another alter your foolery

Nation never cure of ny‎ctophylia

With morals dulled with‎ the familiar

As stolen wealth hang as memorabilia

The ink is faint with amnesia

As they author our treasury with insomnia

No more, scribbling off to poverty

Write it  in history with this paraphernalia

That the records etched in our memory

Must be told through our mass media