Friday, 12 October 2012

Generation Y Africa

I remember growing up in Nigeria, there was not one thing I didn't think I would be able to do, I was ready to conquer the world, not like Adolf Hitler as history suggests but more in a way that I could be a leader in whatever field I choose. I was a smart kid, I still am a smart kid ;) but the courage I had back then had no boundaries. Nigeria was a country, not a continent, I was stack sure that other people from everywhere else knew a country existed called Nigeria, albeit a third world country, but not a place of resentment, spite and dupes. I was already a teenager when I left the shores. In the last 10 years, I have lived in three different continents, Asia, Europe and America, Nigeria makes it the fourth one. I have been well immersed into different cultures and if I have the chance I won't stop until I see the rest of the world. One of the first things I noticed was the way Nigeria is portrayed in the media outside of Nigeria. Within the country, we all watch the wishy-washy NTA news 9pm at night and never wonder if all the things that come up on TV as news ever reach the outside world. No it doesn't, if it does, it rarely does with a limited view and that's only for people who have African channel subscriptions on SKY, who care enough to tune HITV instead of Eastenders or Hollyoaks in the UK or TelAFric TV in America and Canada. In Asia, I do not know of any of such cable networks. That answers the question of who tells our story to the outside world, we do not tell our own stories to the world. CNN, BBC and AlJazeera does. And do they really care enough to exhibit our day - to day lives? Kid yourselves not, they care more about catastrophes and Boko Haram bombings, about removal of fuel subsidy and the protests, they are interested in stories of oil prices. Well, you would already know that bad news is news anyway. There is hardly news in good occurrences except occasional heroic incidents.

According to the 2008 American Community Survey, an ongoing statistical sample survey conducted by U.S. Census Bureau, more than 200,000 Nigerian-born residents live in the U.S. Wikipedia puts that figure at 266,204. The Office for National Statistics put the figure of Nigerian-born people resident in the UK at 174,000 in 2011. 20 million people of Nigerian descent are estimated to reside outside Nigeria. Let's just say millions of other people like me are scattered around the world. The world has come to a point where everyone is expressive of their views. The highlight of this generation is not being the smartest human generation, not homosexuality and sexual perversions, not being good or bad or worse than previous generations. Correct me if I'm wrong but it's not even in terms of moral degradation, there are still good people in our generation, but we above people before us are more expressive of who we are and do not care what anyone thinks about us. All or most of the things we experience in our generation have always been in existence, but we are a generation that is more expressive. We have views and opinions about everything and we are ready to let it out. We do not just conform, we are able to speak up at the right time and not let anyone put us down. We recognize the power of human rights and we make use of it. I think the problem with Nigerians in this age is having little or no opinion about who they really are which makes us less expressive about 'Africa'. Notice I said about 'Africa' because a lot of us are smart about everything else. We know world history, we know world war stories, but we do not know about our own civil war stories and African history.

In our history lies values, values that make us who we truly are deep on the inside. Values that we can hold on to and not allow anybody take away from us, values that could form the basis of our own opinion. A lot of Nigerians overseas need to go back home and experience Africa. I have cousins in their late twenties who have never been back home. They have been everywhere else in the world but not to their own home. African parents could take their kids on holidays to Jamaica or Puerto Rico, but shy away from Motherland. However bad it is, we all need to experience Africa. Why do we always have to dress like other people, talk like other people, embrace the culture of other people and forget that there is so much good within us. I see a generation fading away, youth that have no clue about their own language and are not proud of it. You find most Asians raised anywhere in the world and they are still able to speak their own language. I love how Myne Whitman is able to tell African stories to the world and you see everyone wanting to read and experience it saying they have never encountered an African romance novel before. It simply means that a lot of good things exist but if not well communicated, nobody would have an idea of it's existence. Three years ago, we all saw Chimamanda Adichie on TED talk. That is an example of being expressive about who we truly are. It also explains the popularity of Afrobeats in recent times, even though it has always been there, expressing it to the world will make everyone aware of it. We need to express Africa of this generation, that is the one gift we have as young people. Go back and know your home, go back, know your roots. This post couldn't be shorter but I hope it drives home the point.

Wednesday, 3 October 2012

Lost at the golden gate

The day turns dark, bleak. All you can see now is no end in sight. There's a black tunnel a stream of black colored water flowing down, paints you a picture of oil so crude. Thunder shatters, frightens and goose pimples, shivers of the cold night, even a thick jacket can feel this, warm on the inside but wet on the outside. Lonely jungle quiet habitation. The road is clumsy, sloppy down a path of narrow breeze. And there are hills all around you, slopes and hills, rivers on the side, prison in the middle of the water. Iconic bridge giant in front of you, like a pave-way to millions on a daily path. It reminds you of several deaths to make the million pass through, a chain of lost souls, holding hands to thread a path for millions coming after them. The gates are locked, the dungeons are empty, the abode is ancient, it holds lots history. Caves are carved above you like a door entrance in its natural form. The bush is scary, wet puddles all around you. You want to run and scream, but all you have left in your lungs won't take you a rather long time, you are exhausted. Its a twisted feeling, amidst being lost, helpless and freedom. How can freedom be found in a solitary mountain? Whistles of the nights start to blow, the song it brings to mind 'May it be' - Enya. Sounds can reach even solitary places where words are absent.

p.s: video credit:
photo credit:

Monday, 1 October 2012

Proudly Nigerian

Within a lot of us
There is a lot of flaws
False evidence appearing real
Fear of nothing within us
Coming from a humble crib
We grew to be rather blessed
Luxury of life blew a soulful wind
Looking dapper fresh today
We clean cut and swagged out
We got the right definition of car key
And that gives us the right to be cocky?
Remember the green where home is
A good combination of metaphor
Since I met her before
Its both good and bad
A trendy and worrying place
I found solace in the darkness
A right to know where my soul is
It's the hope that made me strong
She is a true friend and hero
I would not trade her for lust
But now a lot of us
In spite of all our falls
We try to cover up our source
Forgetting it's what made us strong
Let us embrace our flaws
And form one mighty force
It shows us who we are
And cast all our fears away.
Happy Independence Nigeria.

Tuesday, 25 September 2012

Ambitious Girl

Its the real opposite of pleasure 
When people talking love,
I'm thinking pain and pleasure 
The days the clouds are out 
And you're stuck with the one
Who claimed they know you 
In darkness or light bright and shiny 

How I wish we can all find true connection 
And simply not settle out of pressure
Compulsion of family values 
Disguise of societal expectations 
Mama should hold her grand before she passes 
The priest name tagged your clique 'single'
Keeps casting out the demons 

I know it's a bit tough, the time is 
Lonely nights, longing the touch of someone 
But thereafter a decade of misery
You can tell me how worthy the rush is 
When you're with the one and yet feel so single 
Time passed but it doesn't change affections 

I guess we frequently hear the gospel 
Young lady, settle down in your twenties 
And raise your kids in a twinkle early 
Let them grow like weed and that's all perfection 
They'll settle down and repeat the cycle

What happened to waiting for something
So intangible you don't know what it really is 
But you will know it when you find it 
It's called true love, 
But I'd like to call it a connection 
When you meet the one and you just know its worth it. 

You see, to each one his own, this life is 
It'd be a sweat to find Adam, Eve kind connection 
But then again is it worth settling for the serpent? 
Or young man, marrying your Delilah? 

I see the rush of a crowd 
It's a lot difficult to stand alone 
Than follow the through path 
And beat their time to perfection 
But is there glory found in peer pressure?
Or self sufficiency in crowd-solved puzzles?
I'd rather have a mind of my own and fail 
Than follow a whooping crowd to perdition 
It's worth the wait for the calm beauty 
When times are hard like tornado 
She turn a dough to a hot plate 

You see its not always the pleasure 
When people talking love,
 I'm thinking pain and pleasure 
The cloudy day is what means perfection 
When patience is a virtue, Intangible
And time is not the issue, Priceless

n.b: Image from

Friday, 31 August 2012

Gone with the winds

Gone with the winds.
The words I proclaim
When yet another accolade is won
Gone with the winds,
Muted sounds I frame
When the first real toge is worn
Take a look around
Working all night, long nights
Fighting for my life
Young black man, It's not cliche I made it.
You wonder how I did it.
I just don't sleep before I wake up
Dreaming too big, my retina lens can't capture it
Coz I ain't sleeping on a dream
I'm winning it, dream-chaser
Take a look around my schedule
City hopping everyday
Morning sprinting all the way
Daring to be different
The believer of what's known only to self
Gone with the winds. The caption I wrote
When I feel every step closer to a good beginning.

Monday, 23 July 2012


I'm scrolling through memories
A brain album of man as baby
When life was simple and smile was easy
When peace was cliché and nothing to worry
When skin was fragile and sleep was bliss
Baby turns boy, worry nips in
But that in itself was struggle for acceptance
Of peer pressure and self recognition
of new new discoveries, erection of talents
Of making mistakes and learning new skills

And yet short lived, boy evolves to man
From listening to daring, quiet to touting
Fragile turned pale, freshness now sour
Smooth now hairy, Innocence feels guilty
Pouting red eye.
Peace now a struggle, sleep is an effort
A bit of amnesia, a lot to worry

And so I realize, fear!
That's the worst of it
Constantly branding worry as the medicine
That there's no peace and freedom is far-fetched
So in Walter's words, I'll gladly quote

'I have spent my whole life scared, frightened of things that could happen, might happen, might not happen. 50 years I spent like that, finding myself awake at 3 in the morning, but you know what, ever since my diagnosis, I sleep just fine. And I came to realize it's that fear that’s the worst of it. That’s the real enemy, so get up, get up in the real world and you kick that bastard as hard as you can right in the teeth. '

Wednesday, 11 July 2012


Peace is all she needs
To be comfortable and happy
Embodiment of good health
Treasure off purchase shelf
She's got it all, so the world thinks
Stacks of cash, piles of account
Properties in numbers, lot to count
But always down, she lacks it all
It's all mirage, can it go away
Just to have peace, what won't she give?

Needful of reassurance, it will be okay
That's the lacking piece
That she can't have peace
When you have it all,
but you don't have at all
What's a trader to give
To buy the missing piece.

Tuesday, 3 July 2012


Young beauty black skin,
Brown eyes African cheekbones,
Smile of a goddess Shape of an angel,
Body of shinning diamond Heart of gold,
Walk ecclesiastic Aroma of freshness,
Curve of perfection Protruding assets of abundance,
Strength of royalty Purity of driven snow,
Enigmatic lustfulness of Mona Lisa.
Adorable as fresh salad needs no dressing.

Young beauty brown eyes
Sassy spirit laughing gas
Energetic globetrotter
Brainy house of humor
Cool as a fan, calm like a bomb
Uptown girl Archaic treasure
Picture Perfect African Jewel

Thursday, 9 February 2012

I lift up a song of Praise

Austerity dips me, soaks me
Skin wet like baptism
And I can't nip, helpless
I'm that single finger sticking out
In the middle of a valley
Down and depressed I feel
Yes deep, not deeply sinking
deeply within reproach discouragement
digging, pulling out
cold feet, heart frets
Eyes blinking, I dwindle
But down in the midst of mist
I got a song of praise
You're my creator, maker of life
If I don't hallow you,
I'm only going hollow
If I revile in the heat of wane
I'm only going to vaporize
So I figure, my heartfelt praise
Gratitude, comes in my coldest moment

Monday, 30 January 2012

seeking my purpose two

seeking my purpose one

While I woke up early
Early into kidulthood
I look up the sky and stare
The dawn fades into stars

As the day breaks into beautiful sunshine
Father's horticulture blossoms
Flowers bursts out as if to smile
All I wanted daily was to wake
Pleasure found in food and sleep
Just seeing the beautiful world
I see beauty and I know it
That in nature, there is purpose

As I grow up to face the world,
There's more than sight, I feel
The gentle words of a lover
It cuts through deep
Touch on my empty face
I feel every stroke of the fingers
Kiss planted on my bare lips
I feel the slushy moist
Tickles from the whispers
The laughs and the cry
There's purpose in that too
They all teach love

So everything made, I knew
To the living, has its own purpose
They happen as they should
Now, its fright that man fades
Like that beautiful morning
that dissolves briskly into dark night
And so will I, and so shall you
From that boy that wanted nature
To a man who now can feel
And more to come, more of us
Time ticks, purpose evanescence

There comes an age, when the night's dark
The hair is grey, the feet feeble
And man is weak, incomprehensible
A purpose found futile
It rather be known when the sun is out
Like the flowers, for beauty
Like the kiss, for love
Like the air, for breathe
Like the food for survival
Not here to fill vacuum
So I diligently seek
That for purpose alone I'll live

image from google

Sunday, 1 January 2012

of a worthy beginning

It's a new day, the cloud bursts out into a beautiful sunshine.
I live in the realization of the spectacular being
Knowledge of the most high
I'm a carrier of destiny
The life of God is deposited into me
I'm a living proof of the kingship right
The spirit of the most high dwells on my inside

I step into greater heights
Breaking new grounds, doors are opening
I have a firm reassurance of the future not lived
An excellent spirit, not of geekiness, but of success
New insights, impeccable brilliance

Grace and goodness has found me
I live in abundance,
Fullness all around me
Making greatness out of little I'm given
This is the life and I'm living it
In plenteous and in health
I'm smiling into more than enough