ABUJA (7)

Abuja, I need you now, more than ever; 

Where's your love?

I'm left alone amongst twains

ABUJA (6)

Abuja, I need a call to the heart; 

Touch me with thy whisper; 

Cringe my skin with thy touch

ABUJA (5)

Abuja, thou has forsaken me;

Left, lorn, love lost, longing;

Amidst infidelity that overcrowds

ABUJA (4)

Oh! How I love you, Abuja; 

But there you go, spreading yourself; 

Wide open to other men - hustlers

ABUJA (3)

I'm in love with Abuja;

Her love strikes me with lightning bolt;

She kills me with wont!

ABUJA (2)

I define my life on the roads of Abuja

Where a hole is dug in my pocket; even bigger

As fast cars drive through at break-neck speed

MARKETPLACE

There's a thriving marketplace
When insomnia comes to Owls, to Ravens
Aminu Kano, Adetokunbo Ademola, crescents of Ahmadu Bello

THE OVERCAST

The overcast be reddened rooftops
Partial windbreaks
Walls of driedout generations of alga
The dominant color is abandoned gray
Years of colonization wins over every other
Blue, brown, white, even black
The heart of men be won over
That color of corruption be strong
The land, taken to ruins as such
Plenty be naught, fat now thin
Yet abandoned shelled out walls remains
And a few bloated pockets
Dotting the landscape that is Monrovia.

AREA

For area wey we dey, see enof crib for paddy
Ajebo wey hate us call am ghetto
Say na shacks and kpako so so full am
But na them papa no wan make e beta for us

When morning show tear rubber
Wey pale gas hustle and mama set for shade
Guys go come dey hail levels wey dry
E go even dey like say them hail visa for jand

Later, chikala go roll out from lungu
She go look for guy with End Of Discussion
With small knosh and beer for her belle
Na six rounds him go knack

Boys for area just sabi kposh
Them wey wise go play ball
Girls go only throway belle yakata
Bastards go come yanfu for area

When night come, light no go dey
Na chance for boys to go steal be that
Papa sef go still dey joint dey booze
With fear, na our Lord's prayer mama go hail

MY EARNEST PRAYER

O, Lord!

Despite a great many prayers to You, we are continually losing our wars. Tomorrow we shall again be fighting a battle that is truly great. With all our might, we need Your help and that is why I must tell You something: This battle tomorrow is going to be a serious affair. There will be no place in it for children. Therefore I must ask You not to send you Son to help us.
Come Yourself.

- The prayer of Koq, leader of the Griquas tribe, before a battle with the Afrikaners in 1876