Category Archives: My Son…

Letter of The Past

when I was the boy child,
stones were un-useful
but a weapon, to destroy.
now that I am learning life
of stones, useful to uphold
and restore
the crumbling edifice…
my boy child was strong,
so strong to found me here strong
and make me here made.
father, forgive…

©natur’s pictur n’quill.

…as I woke up

  • …a lot of ideas woke up with me, I checked my phone, having deleted my wordpress app, I logged into my account, reading all awesome comments, I tried as much to save my tears and believed I am awesome more than I ever thought I was…Now I’m back with a lot of piece of which have written over the years I had been absent. Will keep you updated with one for each day. Like my younger brother always says “Golden rule; be more”

SQI 2017 National Independence Day Writing Competition

There is always a question on the mind of people during summer holidays. “How best can students spend their time?” SQI has however provided an answer this time. It is really exciting. We are putting students’ writing skills to work.
THEME

THE LAWS OF A NATION AS THE FOUNDATION OF HER FORTUNE
INTRODUCTION

Nations have risen and nations have fallen apart, all in accordance with how the citizens of these nations relate with the constituted laws.
As against the forthcoming 57th independence anniversary of this great nation; Nigeria; on October 1st, Speak Quill Initiative welcomes essay contributions from all young people who are not only the determining factor of Nigeria’s future but are also actors in the Nigerian project.
Secondary school students from all parts of the country are hereby invited to utilize this platform to project their opinions on how the laws of a nation can either influence its growth and development or otherwise.
GUIDELINE/MODE of OF SUBMISSION

*Write and submit an essay between 320 to 500 words on the theme. 

*The competition is open to students in JSS One(1) to SSS Two(2) in registered secondary schools across the country. 

*Entries should be forwarded to speakquillinitiative@gmail.com as attachment in *MsWord document with IDWC2017 as subject.

*Entry opens for submission from 1st of August to 15th of September.

*Entrants should include a cover page containing their name, location, mail address, class, school and telephone contact.
PRIZES

BICYCLE…1ST PRIZE

ELECTRIC FAN…2ND PRIZE

BACK PACK…3RD PRIZE

…and load of gifts to go home with.

Write and win fantastic prizes on independence day.
PS: Parents, Guardians and Teachers can help forward for maximum broadcast.

_Spoils of the War_

_spoils of the war_
*_(An epistle)_*

_Larinnaka !_ 

Come forth,that I might anoint your forehead,

With this palm wine that forsake fermentation,

When the moon walks upon the absence of the sun,

You shall see the crest of the seventh night,

Then you’d be a masquerade of your old self,

For only the brazen endure nights with two faced ancestress in _igbale_,

This is the art of war,the anatomy of valor.
_Larinnaka !_ 

Today,you’re brute but not an ogre,

He that shall learn this art must taste blood,

This blood is the sap of the ancestral tree,

Where _Akara-Ogun_ took shield by the footsteps of an enigma,

He who taste this blood becomes invincible,

For deep in the nights, _Orunmila_ will chant unto indemnified souls..

_A kii mo ori ahun ka pa ahun_

_A kii mo oriki ile,ki o gbe ni de_

_Eni fi ikarahun mu eje s’oogun aiku_

This is the art of war,the anatomy of valor.
_Larinnaka !_ 

The coast is clear,for the sun is in its ripe age

The stallions keep neighing, for souls are soon to be mislaid

I will ride on this stallion, I’d be your stallion

Ride on my very inguen,to learn this art of valor

Today,I will fight and sheathe this sword into its scabbard

Tomorrow,you’ll fight and never sheathe this sword into its scabbard..

This is the art of war,the anatomy of valor.
_Larinnaka !_

No one leaves the shrine without a vanguard,

But heed, _Obatala_

Heed _Olukoso_

Heed _Sonponna_

Heed _Esu Ebita_

Heed the sixteen _odus_ of _Ifa_ the diviner

This impending combat is a junction of blood,

For life and death exists within a thin strand,

But when this strand of hair falls into a flowing river…

Wives shall paint the bones of their husbands in black palette,

Sons shall remember their fathers in the dirge of a quill,

Mothers shall exhume rotten placentas in memories of valiant sons,

Daughters would wish their spouses were their fathers..

But this land,would only wax stronger for a selfless sacrifice,

It is martyrdom…it is a sacrifice !

This is the art of war,the anatomy of valor.
II.

I am _Larinnaka !_

I am not a coward but I would rather take shield under a bamboo leaf,

I am yet but an apprentice who knows not the face of the Grim reaper,

How do I send a soul on an errand to the Elysian fields ? 

If I do learn this art, _Alao_ who purloined my woman will be no more

Even _Tolani_ who fled from my seeds,would go on this journey

But maybe by the setting dawn,I might learn this art

To chant the enchanting chants of _Orunmila_ 

_Kijipa ee se egbe awo maalu_

_Igi ti ara Oshin fojudi lo fo leyinju otun_

_Ete ti o kan aditi Ira,o ni je o kiyesi kurukuru ojo_

This is the art of war,the anatomy of valor.
I am _Larinnaka !_

And my eyes have witnessed terror..

Terror sight of a skull inscribed upon the hills,

Eyes of an innocent lad plucked out by an ogre,

I have witnessed the slain of a merchant,

Who traipsed into the cold hands of death,

On a gory day when his feet should have ceased to walk,

His blood is the liquor for hotblooded swordsmiths,

His blood a shea butter for he who can’t afford Vaseline,

Amidst ignorant wails, came the emergence of frabjous eulogies..

This is the art of war,the anatomy of valor. 
I am _Larinnaka !_

And I have seen gory gore..

Before my blurry eyes,a maiden has won an epitaph,

Her appealing hair now scraped off,the shadow of _Ajirebi_,

Her inguen unveiled by hungry soldiers who haven’t seen their wives in seasons,

This is a story that must not be told,

But an art that must be bequeathed like _ajogunba_,

This is the art of war,the anatomy of valor.
But then.. I surged up from this mental state,

Prying through roots and stems for my father,

But all the earth could give was his amulet

And a sheathed sword in its now bloodstained scabbard,

This must be the art of war,

For no anatomy of valor proves supreme than this..

_©BALOGUN YUSUF GEMINI._

Balogun Alabi Yusuf,popularly referred as Gemini,is a novelist,playwright,poet,author and a teacher. Most of his writings are known for idiosyncrasy as he appreciate traditions and culture. His works have featured on several blogs and he’s currently a resident of Lagos,where he writes. He could be reached via +2348181400105 or yusufbalo15@gmail.com

SANCTITY OF LIFE by Abiola

Where is the sanctity of life?
The beauty of life hangs majorly in the rise and fall of health, a part of our existence that clearly declare our imperfection; this is a fact that an ordinary layman would know, hence the reason for the general saying “no one wants to die” as well as the sensitization to always run for your life. With this, you can easily trust a man to always guard his dear life at all cost because there isn’t a spare but what are we to say about those who were paid for safeguarding lives.
Let’s start with the hospitals, I’m sure one or two of us have witnessed a harsh treatment of patients by nurses especially in government hospitals where every worker’s action is in the caution of a body of ghost invigilators, that comes once in a blue moon and whose eventual visitation would be announced about a fortnight earlier in order to get a grand welcoming. A rather bitter and eventual fortunate experience for a young man who fell sick in secondary school and was rushed to the health center, he was given several ample of injections on an empty stomach, simply because the nurse failed to ask if he had eaten. Thanks to God for grace because the young boy now a man fell to the floor and fainted but was brought back to consciousness with drips after the doctor’s intervention. I wouldn’t like to go into details on how I had to scream at a nurse before someone could go call the doctor to attend to my dying little brother. Let’s just cut the chase about the flaws and give kudos to the government on the provision of health centers but there’s more to be done, perhaps proper orientation. Some of these nurses probably already forgot the university courses that thought them on sanctity of life.
An organization with yet the duty of safeguarding life is the police force but how much of these duty do they execute? I started journeying around this country constantly every year since 2007 and all via road, a period of which I have literally “seen a lot”. From several robbery and accident escape to annoying police reactions to situations. To begin with the faithful day when the bus conveying us to Lagos from Akungba-Akoko in Ondo state developed a major fault on the Lagos-Ibadan highway close to a so called police checkpoint, on pushing past the checkpoint, the driver suggested we pushed the bus back to the check point, then pandemonium broke loose with the officer shouting atop his voice “wetin happen again, sebi una don push dis moto comot before” with response from us being “oga the motor don spoil, we push push e no gree work” the reply was pitiable and so was the total reactions. The police man reported us to the superior saying “oga see dis pippu, dem don push this moto comot before oo, dem com dey carry am com again say e no gree work” the superior then insisted “oya oya carry am carry am, make una just dey go”. That was how the squad denied us of the security we were entitled to as fellow citizens, but you probably don’t want to ask what happened next, I’m still alive writing about it.
It was from a police man that I knew there is a difference between local and international armed robbers, when on escaping slightly from the grip of a gang on a highway towards Delta state we came across a police checkpoint about 2 kilometers away. As law abiding citizens and knowing they have started robbing a bus on the other part of the road we reported the case and the response was terrible, he replied saying “oh, those wans dem be local armed robber, dey go dey go”.
However, the saddest and the reason for this call for the appreciation of life albeit ours or others was an event I briefly witnessed on the 25th of October, 2016 when I saw a man chase another with a machete and saw him angrily aimed at him at a very close range while running still, I didn’t see the end result because my bus was on the move in an opposite direction. It obviously was a rubbery case because a fuel tanker was parked most likely broken down, what I don’t know is what party the victim was. The deed was done at a place where a police squad should be on a watch because several reports of robbery by motorists have been raised. This raises the question all round, where is the call and where is the response to protection of life? No one deserves to be a victim of these acts; I hope this touch the heart of Nigerians in positions to influence the change. Let those in positions to make things right do, the patriotic citizens will surely follow and the nation at large will respond. I am a positive patriotic Nigerian who will influence a change when given the chance. If truly the change begins with me let the leader guide our path with exemplary deeds.

MY SON ix

 My son, 

Much have I said, 

What will you say when you are old? –

When your children is your world

When your world is your word

When your word is your deepest Lord? 


Will you say your says

or what I’ve said? 

Will you say what I’ve said 

or what you’ve said? 

Will your life portrays my says 

for says’ sake? 

Will says portray your life 

to a living lake –

Surrounded by each source of soil?


Little will I tell you more beneath skies

For every gift of life is vanity… 

I’m weak, just live to leave

As leaves flutter away from a tree

To pave way for her bareness…


I fight…(Continue…)

©Natur’s Pictur N’quill 2016

MY SON viii

My Son,

This journey of life…is a rope

Tied round a loin as girgle –

Guiding it’s pride. 

It’s no longer a rope but a stride

To be a circled rainbow… 

It may be viewed by your insight

To see sun in his core

To see moon in her heart

As spectrum spies through your eyes

To read each poem before you leave… 

Though you listen

To the voice of the earth, 

Listen to your soul –

Will your soul melt

By what this earth has sown? 

Listen to silence, to whispers;

To’d hiss of dragon in pretence –

Crawling through your mind, 

Making this new world of temptation

Knowing to whom you are

As satan dwell in the midst of hell

Dwell with the breed of thought

Where idea was captured and caught…

Hnmm…will you hug your lonesomeness

Of being, in the meadow,  My Son?

Much have I said, my Son, 

What will you…(Continue…)

….

©Natur’s Pictur N’quill 2016.

MY SON vii

My Son, 

Be an owl in the dark;

In the serenity of life,

Be careful and watchful.

Care not if you are weird…

`

Just be an owl

And howl…

When it happen at night

Be the weird of sight

`

Sigh every evil 

Sight every good

In broad daylight

Be your darkest darkness!

`

Don’t be fooled but the fool

Allow foolishness to core you

Out of the fruity wisdom

Of your likeness

`

Be weird of whom the mold

Called you

And wise of whom your thought

Thought of you…

`

Be evoke with all awakening

And sensitive to all sensitivity

Be your core silence

In the quake of your volcano.

`

You are never alone

You howl, your yous

Know where you are

They will locate your you.

`

Be of your flight,

Your wings are not of eagle,

Be of your sight

Your eyes are eagle-eyed…

`

Be humble and heedful,

Respect sublime silence

In your grievous time

To reap your coming time

`

Care not if you are weird

For future watches the sun

Whilst owl pretends blind

To see any brooder of her kind.

c. Natur’s Pictur N’quill 2016

MY SON vi

When the ilk silk of a soul sew,

And question queued on a line thread

Briary bride doubted her two worlds

Lying beneath the core of her eyeballs

The core is her identity, be identified…

°

My beloved Son of his father,

Bats are identified by flying at night

Because they are rats,

So do rats- run away from sight

For they are bats

°

If rats walk majestically at sight

It is because they are blind,

If bats were seen in broad daylight

It is because they are also blind

Of their core insight…

°

They are blind to their wrong 

Hung on these trees of life

Which rats don’t see as wrong!

Both species are possibly preys

To something’ prayer. Be wise

°

My Son, be an… (to be continue…)

 c. Natur’s Pictur N’quill 2016.