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Okoye Gabriel Chukwunonye

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Our brother-traitors
Time is playing on us
Parity of life
A striving hamlet
Wash your hands
Beatified monkeys
Mending the broken paddle
Standing a candle for you
Letter to my Kenyan brothers
Integrity

OUR BROTHER-TRAITORS

I am a traveler
I traveled around my mind
I traveled around my sight
I traveled far far away
I saw our fathers’ belongings
That was stolen away in the dark
Our fathers’ blood; our blood

We propagate our sweat
They harvest our blood
Sorrows in our heart
Are painting out other faces in smile
Colonial masters?
They are our own brothers
Good brothers; brother-traitors

They grin at our grimace
We suffer; they supper
They collected peanuts
And gave away our black soil
Our pride; their own pride
Ignorance! Ignorance!
Is that why men perish?

TIME IS PLAYING ON US

Today I represent my country
In the world peace conference
I glanced at my watch
The time is 1 o’clock
The man from London shook his head
The time is 12 o’clock
And my brother from Ghana nodded
The time is 12 o’clock
A German quickly said to him
The time is 1 o’clock
Is this how one betrays his brother?
No! The time is 3 o’clock
Said the man from Russia
Hmm! This neutral man must be a coward
Before I could drop my last word
The Chinese shouted
The time is 8 o’clock!
And the house burst into fire
This led the world into war

But my speech I must read:
Time is playing on us
Differences is playing on us
Disagreement is feeding on us
Until we let our time synchronize
Time will never stop playing on us
Disdain will never leave us
Peace will never rain
And war will never end
Brothers! Black or white
The red water runs through your veins
We may be different statues
But living in one beautiful gallery
Molded by one perfect sculptor
Let us join our hands together
And move the hands of time in unison
Then, our world will breathe peace
THANK YOU

PARITY OF LIFE

Robe wears the noble
Rag wears the servant
But naked were all men born
Mighty mansions live the rich
Miserable huts live the poor
But the grave finally live us
Beautiful angels are born some men
Beautiful baboons are born other men
Beauties old age must scrape away
The flesh eat the wealthy
The bone eat the poor
But the pit swallows our stomach
Preys run away from predators
Predators can’t hide from their shadows
To dust and only to dust
To dust must all men return

A STRIVING HAMLET

..…..sitting astride a main road
Paved with creeping weeds and mud
Weak thatch crowning antique shanties
Modern blocks in shambles
Roaming the streets of this unsaved milieu
And the farms resting with poisoned manure

The plants revealed the sick side of autocracy
Wreaked by diseases and modern deficiency
The goats frowned at the dried frond
The grey dreamt death on the dead bed
Babies bared their bellies for bread
Women rued their bridal smile on the mud wall
As the men fret at the wounds of the mad war

Behold! The city struggles in the refugee youths:
Unkempt hair a real solace to lice
Hats reserving old cob-webs
Collars half-reaped by ravenous city rats
Soles roughly eaten by concrete slabs
Scars ran across their two palms
Like a botch-up on a damned canvas
Brought into the dying hamlet
Relics of demolished city slums
And remnants of poor city dumps
All into the striving hamlet

WASH YOUR HANDS

At the edge of the axe
The Irokos creak and falls
In the hands of doctors
Sometimes our blood overflows
We babies are the Irokos

Father! O father!
Your seed you denied
Mother! O mother!
For your shame to be washed
You poured our blood
Why not a lamb to sacrifice
When the altar taste for blood

Death! O death!
You eater of placentas
Go behind us
With your bare hands
You crushed the days before our birth

Life! O life!
Don’t you want us to live?
They flushed us away like rotten broth
Stinking gutters flows our blood-boat
Where are our destinies?
Where are our graves?

Stop! Stop! You villains
Love of nature you betrayed
Abortion!
Abomination!
What is this mADnEsS?
The hands in the pool of our innocent blood
To you a bowel of clean water is brought
Please wash your hands

BEATIFIED MONKEYS

The drum of crisis is beating in the air
Blowing the wind of ruin and death
My fear trembled not for war
Faces are smiling on every poster
I thought of the dead
But these ones are smiling with little hope
I thought of churches and crusades
But their faces frightened my fear

I wonder why they worry to smile
Despite their rotten teeth
Will I stop monkeys from smiling?
Since it reveals their ugliness
They are boasting to give us bananas
Won’t they throw the peels at us?
Monkeys on their white garment
Mimicking angelical

They have dug the graves again
Soon we will queue up like ants
Walking to their nest
Casting our lives into the ballot box
While in their secret matrimonial bed
They will conceive another monkey

MENDING THE BROKEN PADDLE

On this long blue sea
I shall sail with you
Here is a boat
I hope you came with a paddle
I’m not afraid of the waves
While we pushed the boat from the shore
I saw the smile coming from your heart
Don’t let the cold frightened you
I have a blanket with me
I’m not scared of any darkness
I saw the light in your lamp

Sailing along the deep blue sea
Stormier and heavier came the waves
Dancing the boat without a rhyme and rhythm
The paddle needs your smile to be strong
But that smile couldn’t rise to shine
Now the paddle has broken with your frown
And nothing to roll the boat again
See that yellow cloud over there
That beautiful moon standing there for us
And think of mending the broken paddle
With another true smile

STANDING A CANDLE FOR YOU

On the golden rock in my heart
I’m standing a candle for you
Without you the wick has no flame
I need a match to give it flame
Drop that match box with you
Search deep inside your heart
The flame is right there
Pick that golden match my dear
Rub it on my chest
And light my love on

LETTER TO MY KENYAN BROTHERS

My dear Kenyan brothers
How is your peace today?
Dried leaves fled into other countries
From the trees burning in your land
Birds brought some by air
Fishes brought some by sea
Ants brought some by land
Brought with them plight of plague
Brimming with gun powders, blood and ashes
I know your land is not cursed
Is only your mind that needs healing
I’m calling on you my Kenyan brothers
Please come to your Nzoia river bank
The river that flows you with potentials
And let your mind feel the gentle breeze
I’m calling on you for a parley
Leave your angers and weapons behind
Only bring your good conscience along
Word to word; heart to heart
And there your heads shall be raised
Above ethnic and political disruption

INTEGRITY

I was resting in the shade
In the forest in my great country
On the withered leaves occupying the ground
Are resting the portraits of these great men:
Herbert Macaulay
Alhaji Sir. Abubakar Tafawa Belewa
Alvan Ikoku
General Muritala Muhammed
Chief Obafemi Awolowo
Alhaji Sir. Ahmadu Bello
Dr. Nnamdi Azikiwe
Alhaji Aliyu Mai-bornu
Dr. Clement Isong

I yearned to see
Those who toiled in the witching hours
Like Lemurs in Madagascar
Those who hewed wood sun and moon
With their blunt edges
Those who stormed the forest with brute force
Like ogbu n'igwe in the civil war

I yearned season by season
The tree shedded more leaves
But bears not their portraits
Who starved the bees they sucked their honey
Who brutally fell timbers in the forest
Who woefully died in the struggle
I only saw those who built a nation