Jemimah's Poems
Country of my sweat and toil
The land that was so rich and fruitful.
The land of Kings and heroes
Where has your fame gone?
Your name is no longer recognized
You have refused to move on
All of your brothers have taken the leap of faith
But why haven’t you?
Don’t you think the mockery and shame is enough?
Are you not willing to embrace a new future and forget the past?
Your children have been taken away as slaves
The home of peace and love is no more
The new generation constantly reminds you of the need to fight back
The blood of the innocents have been shed
The nation that was so great has been put under a spell
When, o when
Will you wake up from this nightmare and restore your glory?
There is hope, let the memories of victory be your shield
Let the pain of slavery be your sword
Fight the spell, the darkness over you
And restore the riches and fruitfulness of your womb
Blossom and bring forth children
The time has come
O great nation,
For you to bring back the glory of your land.
Lonely
Four walls around,
I am locked inside my own home
This home of loneliness
That I created by myself
The cobweb at the corner gets larger day by day
My side table creaks with every step I make
The door to my room remains opened
As if inviting me into a deeper place of isolation, where I lose touch of reality
Everyday is a routine
The same people walk past my veranda
And every night those footsteps disappear into the darkness
My every word seems to repel people from me
At the end of the day I sit and reminisce
On those days when children were my joy
…but somehow, I have lost sight of them.
The memories are now a wisp of imagination
That disappear like smoke
It’s just the four walls surrounding me
In this cold and old home
(Sighing heavily I) realize that
I am truly lonely.
Black!
Black hands
Searching frantically
For hope, for life, for light
Black faces
Looking anxiously
For food, for shelter, for trust
Black children
Waiting patiently
For peace, for friendship, for love
Black women
Suffering silently
From domestic violence, rape and discrimination
Black men
Working hard continuously
To support, sustain and help the family survive
But:
What of our black leaders?
They are sitting and relaxing
Enjoying the loot of yesterday’s attack
And planning for tomorrow’s downfall
And:
Nigeria- our black nation
Cries in agony
Over the ongoing destruction
Her children’s pain has reached her ears
And she can hold it no longer
So:
We look to the creator of the blacks
To answer our prayers
To open the doors of heaven
And pour down HIS blessings
Afterall, we are tiny black children in
A black nation that we call our own
And we need some help
To pierce the black hearts
Of the black people.
© 2007 Jemimah Obaro