Godwin Inyang's Blog

Before the arrival of The Cross and Crescent, Bards want to ram down My throat, we all were saints. But I'm seeing something Across my hedge: The lizards and chickens Who haven't read a letter In any of the tomes, Filled with incredible rage Jumping around to scratch Their eyes out; bitter And whipping to skin One another. Honestly, bards, I'm lost in ponder. Did the strangers Brainwashed them too? Would we for once learn To grapple with what's true? Just like the cock hungry For a harem, our greed Is what is killing us; The rotten and bitter seed Long ago sowed to grab The spoils of power Has fructified and hence This brutal hours; Those we armed with All the tribal lies Having tasted the lusciousness Of stolen goods now disguise As feudal zealots To elevate their tribe And we come here and recite A face-saving hype? Chickens chase lizards, Lizards chase insects - Even the insects have ...

Some think life should be lived on the fast lane: Racing cars, disco light, fast food and jet plane; Some think living is best in the countryside: In the flora and fauna they find their pride. Well, you make living an art with what suits you; A great art it is if the fallout none would rue.

If you miss God’s kingdom you’d cry; Try and skip Satan’s every lie. The true Messiah is the Christ; He came and died for you and I. Miss the New Heaven and Earth and cry; To every evil learn to say goodbye. Entry to paradise is your right; Miss it and land in hellish death and fry. POSTSCRIPT: If you worship that great car you ride on a tour, I salute ingenious humans who created it; And you turn to fetish nature for Materials sourced, I bless the God who created these.  

J olly well learn to rest and work at same time; U nclutter (or declutter) your life’s page and nicely punctuate it. N ever lose sight of your goal as anything else is a crime; E ndeavour, notwithstanding the hiccups, a great end to hit.

Choose to be shiny as a star And not grimy than the tar; Choose to stay sweeter than sugar And not bitter than vinegar. Choose NOT to tie your neck with the noose As your life you would stupidly lose.

Writing is like the sneeze; The condition is hard to freeze; You can only find release After episodes of the long hiss.

With the rains setting in, long-distance farming became a gamble. Eka Atim had a not-too-cheering outcome today. The sun dimmed, trees reeled and the wind whooshed through leaves. Across the sky, sturdier birds glided leisurely. The women called one another, carried their loads and hurried along the tracks to the village. Sad though Eka Atim was, a thrill ran through her body as she met a Jeep parked at the front of their mud-walled, iron-roofed house. She thought it could be Godsend. Ete Atim, her husband, was hesitant about educating their teenage daughter. He'd said educating girls was a sheer waste as they would end up as other men's possession or come home with unwanted pregnancies. He reserved his finances for his four sons. Though Eka Atim had great dreams for her only daughter, poverty worked against her. But she'd kept praying for that benevolent woman, who had been coming to pick children to train in the city, to find her way to her doorstep soon. ...