ColumnsFiction & PoetryLifestyleIndignity of a Sorry Mandate ―A Rage at The Wicked

It’s actually your dumb head for me.

How you think to be hailed

‘The I Am That I Am’

How you envisage being praised

‘Baba hum baba hum’.

Look at your fatty neck

Suffocating your wind pipe,

Full of stolen funds-

The one you alleged to a monkey.

Oh poor monkey.


Even this DRUM you call belly

could pass for a parachute

Come to think of it

how does your tiny anus

bear the consequences of your GREED?

Are the machineries of your liver and intestine

worn out from excess load

that you now belch like a strangled dog?

With your ‘hippopotamised’ face

And stinking breath

You make promises that hold no purity.

Giving assurances that elongate your mouth

You say

Power is of the people, for the people and by the peo-

(Ta, mechie gị ọnụ there before m maza gị anya.

onyeochi. ole. barawo.)


Power is of the people

Yet you overturn ballot boxes

to embalm your decayed flesh in power.

It is really of the people

Yet you faint play play faint

on the day of reckoning.


Power is for the people eh?

Honourable minister, tell us

Why is this thunder called ASUU still striking you?

Why is justice of inwe ego, inwe ọnụ and ịma mmadụ?

Do the names Umoren, Slyvester, Bamise, and David ring a bell?

Jeez! What tissues are your brains made of

That you approve of Deborah’s gruesome murder?

Animal skin?

Gini mere na ENDSARS?


‘Power is by the people’.

Why not?

The ones you subject to “your fealty or your life”,

It is always a ‘do or die’ affair for you.

Power is indeed by the people.

The ones you rip off their rights

to bend their will to the tune of your music.

The ones you reversely condition

to leap at every sprinkle of grain them!

The ones you deny their lap of luxury

so that they sell their souls just to have a bite.


ị bụ chi?

Akpa amụ.

You should be ashamed of yourselves.

The opposite of power is your desire:

To be served and not to serve,

For eye-service and not for true service

Even the shoes you walk in curse you beneath their breath.


A good name, they say

is better than riches

but the name, at your mercy, begs.

You grin

with your blood dripping teeth

And pride in your power tussle.

You never wanted POwer?

It’s just your safe word for callousness.


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