Godwin Inyang's Blog

  Along the lonesome track of derailed dreams, Even your shadow would play pranks on you; Your mind reels and your sight suddenly dims As a dense forest of imps blocks your view.   The gigantic shadow at rosy dawn Has dwindled to a dwarf at baking noon, Abandons you at dusk and you're all forlorn As dreaded night comes and you pant and swoon.   Yet the real dreamer is unfazed and knows: In every gentle breeze hides a raging storm And no matter how strong the wind blows Soon it must give way to that which is norm.   Just dream it and it can be actualized; A shattered dream again can be organized. {THE POEM IS FROM MY COLLECTION, 'COLOURS (OF LIFE, LOVE AND FAITH)'.}

  One look at the long hilly track; One look at the burden on its back; The tortoise certainly knows Only a steady pace can win life’s race. {THE POEM IS FROM THE COLLECTION, 'COLOURS (OF LIFE, LOVE AND FAITH)'.}

  I watch daily the sun in its rhythm Coming, going and only to keep coming; Never wanting, never daring to give up And a voice in my head sticks, ringing: Never give up when you’re down. Like the sun, get up and keep fighting.   I watch the waves with all gusto rising; I watch as they ferociously pound, Then recede and only to surge back With no less threat than before and pound And the voice again says: just like the waves, pound; For unceasing pounding only can corrode the coast. {THE VERSE IS TAKEN FROM MY COLLECTION, 'COLOURS (OF LIFE, LOVE AND FAITH)'.}

  Darkness, chirps, hoots, twinkling stars, silver moon; Silhouette of palms, lapping waves, sea breeze; Lovers strolling leisurely near a pontoon; Curled figures in bed sleeping at ease; Locked gates, patrol cars, security men, guard dogs; Cock’s crow, chiming bells, bugle blow at twilight; Dawn chorus, breakfast in bowls, plates and mugs; Orange ball rides up the sky, turns gold and bright. Roaring highways, ever bustling bus stops; Laughter of carefree kids in every playground; Women haggling and buying in the shops... How sluggish night walks, day must come around. As day stalks night with a dazzling beam; So does sweet reality stalks my every dream. {THE POEM IS TAKEN FROM MY COLLECTION, 'COLOURS (OF LIFE, LOVE AND FAITH)'.}    

‘Nsima! Nsima!’ someone in the corridor was yelling and when it went on for too long, the baritone voice was out there calling for Nsima and ordering the television to be put off. ‘People are outside needing water to buy but you’re inside watching TV. You don’t know how many people are out there wishing to have the opportunity you’re taking for granted. The little money you’re making might seem like nothing to you but millions right now are desperately looking for such just to feed. Nsima, you better learn to be serious with any business I ask you to handle. Watching movies all your life won’t help you in any way.’ ‘Grandpa, I wasn’t watching any movie.’ ‘As if I didn’t hear the sound from the telly? Go out there and attend to the customers!’ I went to bring a block as the lad ran outside. Abasiama had raised three courses of blocks when Nsima’s grandmother walked in to assess our work. With a voice at a level slightly above a whisper, she said: ‘So this man really means to...