Poetry/Poems · Social critic

Rivers Of Blood…

Image result for images of Nigeria flag crying


Rivers of pain

swim deep in her eyes

each droplet of tear

a raw testimony of anguish

that words fail to capture.


Rivers of blood

flow down her tributaries

for every slain soul

a Country torn with genocide

bloodletting too much to comprehend


Mountains of prayers

offered up

Chineke, Kabiyesi, Jehovah

forgive us

Mercy we seek, solace we plead.



My home Country Nigeria groans in pain under poor leadership. When evil men occupy spaces where they shouldn’t, strife and anarchy reign supreme. The sufferings and gnashing of teeth of Nigerian indigenes keeps multiplying by the day due to the recycling of avaricious, deeply corrupt, mean-spirited and small-minded old politicians. I pray for the revival of my Nation. I pray for a revolution and restoration.





Hello…It’s Me

Image result for Nigerian Flag

I dialled to say hello
anticipating your upbeat response
from hello, I was going to say more
but most importantly
I needed to hear the assurance of your voice

Your cell phone rang many times
and I waited with bated breath
but there was no voice in response
The truth like a swift dagger
I’ll never hear your voice again

Was it clutched in your hands
when he struck with deadly intent
did your blood splash on its screen
over the image of your bright eyes
shining through your screen saver

A million rhetorics race through my mind
of things I should have said or done
of plans, we had made together
of how things made no sense
of how you are no more

I dialled your number
your phone rang in the grass
where it lay fallen
cut off just like its owner
its upbeat ringing tone
subdued like a dirge



I wrote this poem yesterday with my home country Nigeria in mind. Nigeria celebrated its Democracy day, but we are far from democracy. According to late Fela Anikulapo Kuti, it’s more like ‘demonstration of craze.’

The butchering of innocent citizens by Fulani herdsmen dominates the news each day, gory photos of men, women and children slaughtered in their homes, in their farmlands too horrifying to look at, yet, the Ostrich of a President does absolutely nothing. Could it be that he chose to turn a blind eye because ‘he is Fulani’?

I try to keep away from political issues as much as possible, but when we keep silent evil continues to triumph and it saddens me to see a beautiful, blessed Nation destroyed by avarice and criminals called leaders.

Poetry/Poems · Uncategorized

Closing the gap…


They called it an ugly name

They called it Slave trade

It was man’s inhumanity to fellow man

An injustice that took so many and destroyed the human spirit


They called  it by a fancy name

They called it The Holocaust

A horrific history

Of the evil machinations of men


They called it by a fancy name

They called it apartheid

It was the great divide

That was strictly applied


They gave it a fancy name

They called it genocide

It was monstrous and intensified

An attempt to cast aside and to nullify


They have given it a fancy name

It is called racism

Which is just a term applied

To subjugate and sub-divide


Each of these fancy names

Has created huge gulfs

Among the human race

That leaves us mortified


How do we ever bridge

This great divide?

For the bridge across

Is a long, treacherous walk away from home.

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

The Daily Post Prompt Divide.