THE RULERS OF RULERS by ‘Kunle Adebajo

THE RULERS OF RULERS by ‘Kunle Adebajo

Many years ago, from the days of yore
We learnt fine tales from fair folklore

Of men who got bored of poultry-farming
And thus made for some thrilling enslaving

They ruled and ruined, they even became gods
Other lads’ sweats were their daily cuds

They lied, saying we are the electorate
When really we have no mandate to elect our fate

They said the people possess the sovereign power
Perhaps what they intended was suffering power
Source: Photo Credit: Mana Neyastani

Photo Credit: Mana Neyastani

They promised us seventh heaven on earth
Only to later appease with ‘life after death’

They oppressed, suppressed and often repressed
Buttons of tyranny they endlessly pressed

They got drunk from the calabash of power
And sunk into shame, high as the Eiffel tower

Seeing as few men molest his virgin land
The Good Lord blessed some men with ken and pen

These arose to battle, they arose to fight
With the pen, they placed next to the tunnel some light

With words, they fed the hungry
And with words, they freed the sundry

They are the tapes of reason, the rulers of rulers
They are the keen ‘Benjamins’ and incubi of ‘Squealers’

They are the daring vanguards of journalism
Wielding placards against the dons of Nazism

Their pens have again lined the clouds with silver
Their quills have caused ‘the gods’ to quit and quiver

‘Kunle Adebajo is a potential colossus at law, honing his skills at the shores of Nigeria’s premier university, University of Ibadan. Sadly the waves of poetry, oratory, writing and generally not minding his business have diverted his attention from the Isle to the endless majesty of the sea. In his trance, he has discovered that there are a thousand roads which lead to the doorstep of justice. He however hopes to retrace his footsteps to the law books soon enough. When he is not writing or preparing for a speech, he fantasises about life as a married man.
MUSINGS OF A SINGLE LADY by ‘Bukola Ibirogba

MUSINGS OF A SINGLE LADY by ‘Bukola Ibirogba


In a corner, all alone
In pairs, people pass me by.
Hand in hand, smile to smile.
I am invisible, faded into the background.

I sit and ponder.
Is it my fault? I wonder.
Maybe I’ve been too hasty to dismiss,
Eager young men asking for a kiss,
Time weighs heavily on my mind,
Age seems to no longer be on my side.

Maybe, it’s time I threw in the towel,
Maybe, it’s time to give up, or grovel,
I sit here, all alone.
Left with my hopes and dreams, all alone,
Single, not broken, yet full of hope

musing of a lady

And so I sit once again,
Full of hope, also full of pain,
Pain so raw that it grips my very soul,
Hope so great that my heart’s bells toll,
It’s easy for them, it’s hardest for me.

The geese, the goats, even the insects,
Have followed nature’s course with great effect,
In twos, they move, each with a mate,
I smile, pretend, saying there’s a lot on my plate.
Only I know the tears I cry behind closed doors.

My laughter has become mirthless
My careful looks have become careless.
I ask myself if anyone pays attention,
To the fact that my face is now tight with tension
Day after day, I feel my hope fade away.

Single was I born into this world,
But will I leave single?
The fire of hope burns less brightly now.
I have accepted that not everyone is destined,
To spend their lives with another.

I sit again,
Without hope, I am numb.
Pain increases so greatly, my heart is dumb,
Never again will I sing the song of hope.
I wait single, broken now, waiting to be healed.


‘Bukola Ibirogba is a student of the Faculty of Law, University of Ibadan. She draws inspiration for her poetry from her love for God and everyday issues.




I remember those days
When hunger knew my name
My stomach was in flames
It sang a noisy song
With every scent of food
Discordant melody replayed
One cannot blame the cook
Preparing meals he would not eat
Of what gain is the aroma
That is spread in generosity
When the essential delicacy
Is denied to watering tongues?

I remember those nights
When I studied without light
The philosophy of famishment
And ideology of inner torment
The blindness of the government
To the anatomy of starving children
No professor would impart
Knowledge that no words can tell
Of what gain is propaganda
Sugarcoated manifestos
To the long acquired culture
Of feeding the poor to vultures?

Photo Credit:

Photo Credit:

I remember those midnights
When it was best to sleep tight
But for wailing in the tenement
For the souls that waved each moment
Those bones still build a monument
In the study of hungerology
In furtherance of Biology
A crucial path of our food web
Relished by decomposers
What else should I remember
Before these hands get weary
The smell of rotten bodies?


Chuks Obi is a law student at the University of Ibadan. He writes poems and articles which have been published in different magazines and online publishing sites. He strongly believes in the power of the pen as a tool to make the world a better place.

MY MOTHER – MY STRENGTH by Aremu Abiodun

MY MOTHER – MY STRENGTH by Aremu Abiodun

Mother, my strength as a child,
My angel of guide through reality,
My comfort in the cruel world,
She is my mother, my teacher of love.

Her heart has no bars,
Her ways mentor me on confidence,
Her choices mentor me of boldness,
She is my mother, my teacher of knowledge.

Mummy scolds to teach me,
Mummy don’t spare me when I’m wrong,
Mummy has guided me through childhood,
She is my mother, my teacher of sense.



She wipes my tears,
She stays awake so I can sleep,
She face her fears so I can live,
She is my mother, my teacher of strength.

She tells me about God,
She has always shown me the right path,
She brings my heart close to God,
She is my mother, my teacher of the gospel.

You celebrate my success,
You hurt when I’m wounded,
and when life bring time of strife,
You are my mother, my teacher of hope.

Your love is of no bound,
You give my weaknesses life,
You tolerate my childishness,
You are my mother, my teacher of care.

She grows more beautiful,
Even when life almost breaks her,
She smile everyday so I won’t be worried,
She’s an icon, she’s my joy.
A.A. Aremu is a graduate of Moshood Abiola Polytechnic, where he studied Accounting. He is in constant search of knowledge and loves the pen.



You are not growing younger
Were the words of my mother
Breasts as firm as a pumpkin
Skin glistering with youthful hue
When shall you bring the man home
That will balance your equation
Plant fertile seeds in your soil
To germinate as boys and girls

So I went to the husband market
My perfume’s scent stronger than camphor
Clad in a dress of advertisment
High heeled shoes sounding ko ko ka
With feminine curves visible to the blind
And a mastery of the art of catwalking
I shook my credentials from left to right
To the stares and smiles of spectators

In the search for a God-fearing man
I joined the ushers in service
Welcoming men with charming smiles
Saying ‘you are blessed’ in the sweetest voice
Bending and rising to the songs of praise
Lifting gold bracelets in adoration
It seemed like I had no luck
But my pastor said, ‘the siege is over’


On a Sunday morning, my prayer got answered
Through the handsome chorister
Whose voice was like a nightingale’s
He sang a hymn that touched my soul
And I felt this divine turnaround
As his hands performed magic on the guitar
He later confirmed the thoughts in my heart
I felt this peace inside of me

From the day I got his diamond ring
I began to swim in the pool of love
With his salary, he pampered my stomach
And made me his royal queen
Judas promised to marry me
He was the man I had waited for
Although he claimed his parents were dead
He was too born again to lie

It was wedding preparation time
Tarrying in prayer in his room
When he grabbed me in his loving arms
Reaching areas beyond the normal range
I broke away and made to leave
But he threatened to desert my life
Just few months to my wedding day?
No obstacles at the edge of breakthrough!

Can you tell the story from there?
My gateway has been broken through!
The ring still shines on my finger
Judas is nowhere to be found
Judas Junior now rocks my womb
Insults and jests I hear each day
If you meet Judas someday
Tell him I can’t bear the shame

Chuks Obi is a law student at the University of Ibadan. He writes poems and articles which have been published in different magazines and online publishing sites. He strongly believes in the power of the pen as a tool to make the world a better place.



I was pregnant,

Every movement I felt was a wonder

With my growing stomach, my eagerness grew

Then I began to hear tales

Tales of the horrors of birth

Tales of reaching the great beyond

Tales of excruciating pain

Then my anxiety grew.

The big day came and my fear blossomed,

Became a pill too big to swallow

“Open your legs”

“Give way to your child”

I felt her try to push her way through

Yet I held on, I didn’t want a part of the pain

It became a struggle between us

And she won



The decision was taken out of my hands

And the journey began

Tears flowed like a car on the express

The moments of rest were welcomed with such relief

I began to search for the silver lining

I looked forward holding a baby in my hands

And I faced my pains with the knowledge of the joy ahead.

It soon became over

And I stretched my hands to welcome a baby


It was a stillbirth

The tears stopped flowing

And I looked on helplessly as my world crashed

Love found me

It taught me to face my fears

And just when I was ready to take on the world,

Love left.
Oluseyi Awojulugbe is a lady who believes that there is always another side to a story. She is a hopeful romantic who still believes despite the odds.For her, the best things in the world are God’s love, the view of the world that only words provide and being in a lover’s arms.

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