THE SOCIAL INTROSPECT

By divine orchestration; the Super-being placed their feet upon the Soils of the Negroid Savannah The land of the Rising Sun Black tough skin perfectly made to confront the harsh sunbeam Some brown, some deep; Shinning by the slightest soft cleansing and tendering Later this community of men encountered a group with the white skin By virtue of fate; a lot of things changed Black men became caged; Not only physically but mentally The craving for a mirror and a couple of jeans; Made men lose the sense of their originality To be modern; they say be white, to be the best; be light Perception told and bought without confirmation Without balancing on the mat for a second thought Without consideration that we had a place we were coming from We the children of valour, of the land of the rising sun For the cooked and garnished Europeanism Our folks embark upon the journey across the Mediterranean Sea A deadly voyage; the journey to see lands of

It came as sudden as lightning, The Quietus of her wellspring.   Friends and acquaintances kept their promises spayed. Leaving her alone to contend with life. Now homeless and unchaperoned, She's left to wander through the denseness of life. The coolness of the night which brings rest to tired souls, Only reminds her of her defenselessness. And the crow of the cock which heralds the ingress of a new dawn, Instils fear in her heart For she knows not what the day holds. No matter how she tries to make ends meet, They keep getting shorter. She grubs for a life of her own, The more she pushes, the more life pushes back. Nowhere else to turn She is on an island of hopelessness Surrounded by a sea of struggle. Not willing to remain on the island, She gets into her little boat; her dream. As she stirs on with her little paddle; her hope. These words keep her afloat : That behind every thick cloud, there is always a silver linen and Beauty is yet ahe

Emerging from years of been battered in the Hands of political mismanagement and its immoral births of infrastructural deficits, debts accrual, insurgencies, and various monsters emerging from the depth of Human misconduct. Nigerians have endured decades of slavery not in the Hands of foreigners’ post-independence era, but in the Hands of their own Rulers. Flogged with the whips of corruption, held bond by recessions, the Masses has suffered and continue to toil; baking the National cake that some minute elites have Greedily gulped down their oesophagus from generation to generation. These pharaohs are startled at our geometric increase, yet they roll their tongue around their lips; for they see an Army of Laborers ready to be manipulated to achieve disdainful end increase. We have been sojourners in our own Land; like one held captive in the Land adjacent the Nile, deprived of decent living; grappling with poor education, poor healthcare, poor security, and poor remu

SAVING NIGERIA’S EDUCATIONAL SYSTEM FROM A PITFALL BY ABISOLA AKINOLA Prior to this era, the educational institution was momentous and teachers were much revered. In fact, education was so valuable that even a primary six graduate could secure a job. Then, parents would encourage their children to be educated in order not to end up like them. They saw education as the best patrimony they could give their children. The society's present underestimation of educational achievements in this present day is not deliberate. There are several reasons attached to this: The educational structure and its achievement in Nigeria is deficient, it is not what it used to be. The world has moved on beyond the educational system practised here. It has come to the point that a graduate might not get a good job because what he/she is being taught in schools now is different from what is being practised in both the corporate and business world alike. Another instance worthy

From time immemorial, the pace of development and human progress has most often been intercepted or slowed down by cunning and greedy men; men with hyper insatiable appetites; the power huggers, sellers of their nation for a bag of silver. from the Senate to our representatives to past  head of state and government, and presidents in our 21 st  century democratic eras; are men who the populace elected and those who selected and manipulated their  way through to the cabin of power; to sit amongst the officials deciding the affairs and destiny of our dear nation; unfortunately they have consistently mis -navigated the moral, economic, political, socio-religious and educational compasses of this nation to an island where they have held hostage and continuously loot the cargo of our destiny; concomitantly siphoning the passengers; on our route to nowhere yet. Ooh kinsmen of Judas; men in agbadas, saris, Durban ties and robes; taking their seats amongst the noble; callous ones wh

It’s a new dawn Shouts and marching; drives towards the converging point Keys into the padlocks; opening doors yet filled with dust Opportunities are beaming; there is a lot of noise Wears are landing on tables, merchandise hanging with pebbles Eyes are running, surveying; those of Genuity alongside those filled with obscurity The owner and what he owns; madam shines her eyes on her items of gold Profit’s the name of the game; the players are giving themselves some close marking Parents with their kids in the marketplace The children are running within the market space Nneka and Gbola; in close bond, with secrecy, dishing out the latest rounds under a market shade Alfa and the prophet in a hot tussle of putting their truth in the people’s face At noon Crawling, walking, running, jumping; as the tempo may seem Mama t and aunty b; selling the same wears; exchange some couple of twinkle eyes, as buyers draw near It’s a tussle and jostle story fo

THE DANGER OF A NARROW VIEW He wanted an orange tree, I gave him an orange seed He frowned at it and threw it away I shook my head and said Alas! The danger of a narrow view. Your son is in school, perfect! Educate your girl too Why should I ? said he She'd end up in the kitchen. I groaned within and said to myself Alas! The danger of a narrow view. Look beyond the form See beyond the seen Think beyond your thoughts. Flee the danger of a narrow view. Abisola Akinola(2018)

At the beginning; it was the cleaving of twain to become one However; in our dispensation; it’s the fixing of twain to become none How much has the stream that supplies our enormous river become adulterated, polluted? Maybe some calculator could ascertain, and give us the required statements The circle of our rising sun; the source of our beaming joy Has now become a mapped out space for a hefty punch Trust; once sat at the middle, but it’s now playing second fiddle At the lapping of baby Lola by uncle Dola; emerges the optic nerve of surveillance as crab sleeping with one eye Our love used to be pure; till some cold water poured Oh our Circle of dancing steps, at the shyness and brightness of the evening star I visited thy centre, calling out on the brethren; but no one to answer Solitude; amongst the multitude In our dispensation; our Circle of togetherness has turned angles of Loneliness At home, we find succour in gadgets; when

Life’s a journey Trail the path; Though you will walk through the bush that’s thorny, Even sail through the sea that’s stormy And in darkness; you will need that Light It’s the Word that speaks right So you don’t become overwhelmed by that plight Just be led by that Captain, Whose faith can help you move mountains He will guard you By Him, the Earth was laid as a mat And the heavens; spread as Blanket Get your mind ready You will need to guide it steady Seal it; from those who will fill it up with perfidy Open it to Imports from the Word of Life; it will help you achieve your destiny Today could bring you rain; Enjoy quite well with discernment and Ears to the Spirit Coz Tomorrow might yield drought, and your soul could grow weary So be wise along with enough Simplicity. And note this; mind thy companions, the company of wolves are multiplied Search among the hills, down the greens; behold their; a company of sheep They will l

Lately; It dawned on me; the redefinition of our set goals Our target to scale through the wide gloom To fight for the rebirth of our esteemed values The struggle to rebuild the broken wall of our Nubian Virtues What we were originally known for. Sailing through the stormy sea to the safe harbour We had a compass, howbeit; the pirates amongst us drowned it through the hole of evil intention. Now our goals; the scrolls that held the great virtues we highly extolled Have been manipulated! Adulterated! Yes; dilapidated!!!! I can’t imagine; that from diligence and focus, our young; have become fans of quick cash and shortcuts The goal is to get a full bag, many at a go; full of dough I heard of this one; that 10 bottles to wipe away your sorrow has now become a goal Or that you; perpetuating the immoral at the corner; infact, has been tagged a beautiful public show Ooooh! Would you listen to nay – Sayers? Who tells you to score a goal; into th

OMOLUABI; that was the call! From granny But when Ade and Tola came forth; the atmosphere became funny Fascinated at the new state of affairs Trying to extract meaning from the current disorderliness Like a deliberated scratch on a smooth panel Or a blockade to a free flowing channel The hands of the young that tears his own decency in our land of sanity What’s his claim; He wants some public popularity It’s all around and has gained some normality She chants; Excuse me!! But their nothing wrong with the style And for your info; this is our own time; our clime! Moreover; stars roll with this same attire I wouldn’t have focused a lot of attention; Except for the fact that you are transcending back in time In times when men wore rags and they hoped for decent shirts and Skirts But with their knowledge of you; they can’t help but shed tears As you have chosen to follow the bandwagon of those embracing backwardness.

Strength sets out to manifest itself among the gathering of folks It looks for space amongst the aged; but found it lacking therein Searches for some gap among the infant; but the door was yet open to it But among the vibrant; space was afforded so much that it dwelled amongst them for so long The Glory of the youth is in their strength; Saith the WORD of LIFE So they should restrain from the idle mind Reiterating; whatsoever your hand findeth doing; do it with all thy might For the grave has nothing to offer; save a stench – filled arena You could say we’ve got a lot of time To wine and dine, to play well now; for our times are still prime Lest you forget; that a stitch in time saves nine Pull the weight; avoid the weight pulling you For the vibrant; our future is bright and we must get there But the devil is braced up to drag many into his own snare Shun the colourful but dirty, the pursuit after vanity So your light doesn’t vanish

A lot plays out in a society where the values are shattered From top down; trickles mess that leaves one in awesome wonder Once a corner that occupied children receiving knowledge based tutorials The next time you are going there Or you want to peep over Please take cover or a dark eye glass For you might become shocked! When you see kids exercising disdainful acrobatics All in the name of the dictation of a tune; That tells them to Practicalise the devil’s scroll Of doing the disgustful; just at the corner!!! But where are the ones who should shield our future? Mama is busy dancing disgracefully to the rhythm of the same tune in the market square Papa; doesn’t mind; they are 21 st century kids and they’ve got to dance to popular tunz The young mind has been battered Our norms have been shattered Our direction has become scattered Our moral consciousness has suffered Just at new turn of a corner. Where are the sounds of old? Th

With hands and legs garnering momentum and strength to start the race The toddler picks upon the platform of consistency He takes his first step All, wear beautiful smiles; non as vibrant as the sister of nature                                        He starts the course of which he seeks reconnection to the source that teleported him He is faced with an army of fine tuners The lot of multitude who wants to strike a stroke on his tabula rasa They even placed an identity tag on him, The battle between the instinctual and the moulders He gets fine-tuned; the Lot buys him an identity Now he has got to wear the moulders dress on nature’s given clay He begins to meet like mind folks and starts to reassess the dress he has been given He observes that some dresses though similar; had some colourful variations in retrospection But he doesn’t mind; he dips His hands into gold sacks made for him by Mother Nature He discovers some rough shinning stones; thoug

Like a rainbow declares the receding rain So does his persistent rage; declares his diminishing fate He pours upon his hair; oil from the alabaster box His feet are as bright as the most shining torch Still they leave trails of oozing stench He tunes his muscles to assert his perfection Little did it dawn on him; that the battle was not to the Hefty. He joggles between numerous trade, boasting of his prowess Unfortunately; food seldom came to his wise - table For his beauty was founded upon the plain His strives are as woods trying to divide a mountain For he has no beauty within His quick feet are too slow for the finish line Then re-surges  the one within He had no strength but virtue He beats the rocks with sticks; behold streams flowing out with speed With less chants he doeth great works He knows not many ways, but he won’t stop asking With sublime tenderness, he leads the pack of the unruly His garment is laced with the j

Culture is of no doubt; unique It also spells out life’s nitty gritty But the peculiarity of same must be taken into consideration Before some men wipe out our whole generation Though the Fula man lives for his cows Please let him also know that other men live for their farms No one weed can make a bush Nor can a drop of water make a brook. Before the legalization of bazookas for the sake of guarding the sacred meat What will be the fate of those who own the munching teeth? Cows for feast, a necessary pay by the bride, and show of might Are the fuels that drive the marauding quest of the fula man, I thought your dane guns and swords where for marauding wolves and intruders Instead you point and slash them on communities of settled farmers Leaving them in unwarranted stretch of trauma And in excruciating drama Well, least you slain us all and eat your meat; so your meat eats you The hands with the staff of authority hold the cane but they c