The Flowers and the Charlatans

The moment was quite unripe
Without thought, pregnant with strife
Witnessed was horror as we began to wipe
Tears off the face of such a sour tragedy of life
They were for the Chibok maidens
Over five hundred days ago

They had their destinies embezzled
By psychopaths and idiotic nonentities
They had a nation bedazzled
As it struggled to unravel their identities
As well as those of the culprits
Over five hundred days ago

Apparent was the anguish
There was no solace
Nothing has come to vanquish
The melancholy from the face
Of the flowers that were plucked by imbeciles
From the Chibok gardens

Stronger than a mother’s anguish
Is a mother’s wrath
Incurable in each
When she witnesses a bloodbath
Of godless bastards
That portrays themselves as humans
Tue, I spit on their faces

Shame on us all
If the only price we can pay
Is to hang on to a fickle thread of hope
Shame on us all
As we allowed this decay
And watched lambs in lion’s clothing elope
With the flowers from our gardens

Shame on us all
While we all bickered
Our fickle heart wavering
Pointing fingers away from the obvious
Shame on us all
As we splintered along tribal borders
And festered the wounds of our cowering hearts
Shame on us
For thinking they are Muslims
For calling them Islamist
While the name that truly befits them
Is preserved for the devil alone

Shame on us five hundred times more
We go to sleep and wake
While the flowers were being deflowered
By thugs and beast
Who deserve a united fury
From a nation without a united jury

An empty bed
A cold stare
Lifeless pictures
Sleeping shadows
How can we measure the pain?
When our memories
Have been converted to numbers

Their laughter will echo without end
The heroes of chibok
Haunting the serenity of the night
Of those who contributed to their travails

I will call their captors for who they are
‘Evil strikes again’ I will say
Anytime they rear their head again
From the jungle they have sought refuge
I will call them
The Sambisa Charlatans


The Subaltern


When you hear the phrase “children dying of hunger in Africa” it probably sounds stale and without meaning. It has been said a countless of times by parents trying to get their children to clean up their plates, by celebrities acting as representatives for charities, in one of those garish adverts that fails to draw any sympathy from you, and even regurgitated by people who are still unsure if Africa is a country or a continent.

Let me jog your memory, remember one of those days you were commuting from work/school and during your journey you hear your stomach growl and grumble. You feel a weakness descend on you and you salivate when you think of the food stored in your fridge at home. You remember the crispiness of the chicken you’ll buy or the crunchiness of the carrots. Now, imagine you got home and there was no food or…

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God’s Expression (Read between the Lines)

Who am I
What am I
But a transcript

I am complimentary
A template with a mirror
Always stranded

Initiate me,
In a way subtle
With primed capping

Protect me
From degradation
And then bind me

Export me
Find me the complex
That won’t decapitate me

Cleave me,
At three prime
And find the right sequence

Send a signal
Give me a tail
That won’t degrade me

With the right splicing
At the entry and exit
Extend my complexity

Translate me
I am a codon
I’ll become an acid

Chain me
Process me
I’ll be a package

I am a subunit
Measured in Svedberg
I am now obvious

I exist in dimensions
By a laureates dogma

I have chaperons
Quite diligent
That sustains my function

I am life
Manipulate me
To understand my nature

I am simple
I am complex
I am the handwriting

Of God

To choose the Right King (part 1-4)

Part 1

A liar and a willing sometimes desperate fool

The liar is a deceit even to his own kinsmen

Thinking none could stop him

Arrest his voice before he does more harm

Though now seemingly buoyant

By the success of our doom

The fool lacks the sense to be thoughtful

To approach critical issues crucially

In the simplest way available

To question what had been done and said

What needs to be done and said

On the basis of the evolution of solutions

Even in contradiction

The fool is a participant in a scheme

Strained, malnourished and impoverished

Seemingly starting anew what has not ended

Over and over again

Part 2

The fool, although not quiet

Fails to accept the way to truly solve its problems

Hence like the disease he suffers from

He patronizes one liar to the other

To govern inexplicably and endlessly

Over his choices and future

But to suggest the fool is unaware

Is to suggest the liar is aware

Of the fools unawareness

How disenchanting

The liar poses challenges only

That the fool is afraid to confront

As they both dance to the music

Remixed from the past

A distraction, a medication

That soothes the liar

And afflicts the fool

Part 3

Like a metamorphosis in continuity

Attempts to see the liar as one

And admonish the fool as clever

Have only resulted in complicating

The usual flow of reality

This life is but a passage

Lords come and surely perish

If the legacies left are naught.

The liar has pledged to excel

Thus his mouth is as filthy as expected

The fool has tried to be wiser

By opening his ears to filthiness

The dance, every four years

Have no sight in end

When it is always about deceit

Part 4

Should my pen refuse to write

And my voice ceases to be heard

My heart shall implode in delight

Who is that that speaks the truth

But few

Who are subdued and suffocated

By the liars antics

Who are those that seek the path

To emancipation and enlightenment

But few

Who are frustrated and refuted

By the wisdom of the fool

Laughter baffles me

I thought I’d think deeply

But thoughtfulness divorced me

Then sadness beckons

And all I can do is smile

albeit shamefully

Stereotype Me!

I am black
I have melanin
you are whatever you are
when you call me a monkey
I thought we all evolved from them
you racist atheist!

Do you think you are better than me?
while you claim to worship a God
and you still call me a monkey
when God created me
I thought God is perfect
you racist, bigoted, fanatic.

I don’t want your empathy
nor do I need your sympathy,
I am human, with parts like you
but I know you are insecure
because you can see beyond my skin
and realize how shallow you are
when I excel.
I thought you are intelligent enough
you racist academic!

I am fast,
I am strong and powerful,
you are aghast,
you are weak and pitiful,
you cower at my skill,
you have nightmares with my potential,
throw me a banana,
you racist fan!

I am Nelson Mandela,
I am Martin Luther King,
I am Wole Soyinka,
I am Bilal,
I am Pele,
I am Serena Williams,
I am Muhammad Ali,
I am Micheal Jordan,
I am Micheal Jackson,
I am Usain Bolt,
I am Oprah Winfrey,
I am Maya Angelou,
I am Barack Obama,
I am proudly Black

Shower me with bananas,
I will eat them,
Sing me a monkey song,
I will dance to your pathetic effort,
you stereotype my identity
while you can only mock yourself
You nameless nonentity!

Morals and mortals (for my son Ahmad-Rayhan)


Welcome dear one

To a nation

Where lions are led by lambs

Where those who lead us

Are hyenas in lamb’s clothing

Where men aren’t a lot to write home about

Yet women still crave for them

And where a few good men left

Are either in prison, or in silence

Or in the tentacles of an undeserving woman


Welcome sweet little child

To a nation

Where young men think like kings

As if getting rich is their birthright

Where young women seek for empowerment

I don’t know who imprisoned them in the first place

Welcome to a world

Where we’ve engaged with our enemies for too long

Thus they have adapted to our tactics

Welcome to a world where love is music

To steal a woman’s virginity and dump her

Leaving blisters in her heart like a symphony

Welcome to a world

Where this same woman has no choice than to adapt

And offer herself to the next fool that sings to her

Welcome to a world

Where morals exist no more

Where mortals forge for themselves

Accomplishments that immortals would fail

Welcome to such world

Where a fragment of truth is discredited with ease

And the lie…seriously… has mutated

Into its code of conduct

They call it national security these days

Welcome to a world

Where power is everything

Where revenge is the food of the oppressed

And religion is drastically losing its impact

Or I guess we are selling out the impact

As an alternative to live the dream

Welcome to a world

Where just a few holds the cards to our livelihood

Waiting to establish and pronounce themselves

As God

Welcome to a world where your father himself

Knows just little of what to do about everything

But hopes you can know little of what to do as well

When you grow old

United in cowardice

The trees will dance

To the songs of the winds

The birds do fly

And watch our hopes hang.

A single termite can’t defy nature

By building a castle alone

But men try almost at will

Not to build but to undo

And we can only stare

As our nation crumble to dust


We shout in weak cries

And fume in silent anger

Like a zombie, we are oblivious

To see as we should


Dreams are rendered hopeless

By those who are useless


And the few heroes that rise

United in our cowardice

We leave them to hang

In our united silence


Like an oppressed nanny

Raped at will by her master

With no one to complain to, but God

Surely the man is dead in most

As we keep mute in political tyranny.


The powers that be, who are they?

Men like us, perhaps less

With deceit they seek

With lies our ears are used to

They can only feed us with more

Like we are demented

Our democracy surely,

Definitely crappy,

As our choices are, even more

And we can only watch our fatherland

United in toothless effrontery


In your silence, read my words

Form your thoughts

And with ease, let it evolve

Into a voice, powerful

That will change the future of time

For now is the time, as always

To raise our hands and fight

To open our ears to lies no more

And shut our eyes from illusions.

For death is surely certain

If we choose or choose not to

Pave the way for a better tomorrow.


Let our sweat recharge us

To break that cowardly chain

Bounded around us by men like us

Perhaps less