Poetry: It Happened in 1902


In 1902 it seemed.
Low class ladies yet high self esteemed.
Flash lights coloured in red and blue.
Entrapment, what will we do?
Fingerprints weighing larger than footprints.
Retinal scan shades off.

It happened 1902.
Collections of naturals.
One was better off as two.
Truthful expressions, no sentimental value.
Uneasy breathe choking.
Blown away from eternity to reality.
Realization and verification.
Midi dress and maxi skirts.
Afros and negroes.
Large cuff bracelets.
Piercings chained to our souls.
Lurking into the minds of the less crowded.
Poetically it’s over-crowded.
To little minds it happened in 1902.
To opened hearts it only existed in the 21st century

War tore the blouse of reasoning
She stood exposed. Naked!
Something happened to you, Aro!
Was it the slaves you took
Or the foreign hands you shook?
The feathers Ibin Ukpabi took
Didn’t save her chicks,
They called the masquerades.
Nothing happened to you, Aro!
You killed your own mother.
You raped your father.
And when strangers gathered to plead,
To them your hands sold your brothers.
The earth under Bende’s feet
Wore the color of fear.
Edimma, Ikotobo, and Ikorodaka
Bathed in same stream.
The ears of your feet failed to listen.

It happened in 1902,
Ningi was a weak warrior.
She never won a battle.
Riyadh fell…
They saw spirits climb her walls.
Edison lost his movie camera.
Conrad made it to 13th November.

1 soldier started stories in sadness.
Telling how he lost his lives of 9.
Whenever he broke down his tears came in nill.
2 days later, he died in my poem.

There was a time, in 1902, like many good ol days
Our voices will ring out
In protest against vampires
Sucking at the blood of our land
There was a time, in the good ol days
When like Buck wild asteroids we blazed through enemy blockades to
Entrench the truth of our existence!

Whispers are as rare as fairies riding on unicorns
Tragedy burdens our souls
Save for sighs, we can only weep, only raise dim eyes, feeble hands against the howls of oppression!

Ozubulu, if only it was back in 1902, the good ol days
We would do more than wail!
Do more than fold our hands and tails between legs scamper to the safe ditches of cowardice

Pick up yourself from this earth, red with your blood of misery!
Speak to your children of how tomorrow can birth glory!
Or weep on as you now do, for 1902 and the good ol days.

A lot happened the night before the heating up
A maiden got laid
A wife took in
A boy became a man
Somewhere a child went to sleep
But in the hearts of some men
Evil brewed.
On the morning of war
Someone woke up hopeful
Someone woke up vengeful
But all that will die, woke up
Cultures woke up
Traditions woke up
Sides were taken
Positions were taken
Lives were taken
This is but the beginning of tales
and of fears that flowed in 1902

Jennifer Dafwat
If my birth came in 1902
I would have been,
Sunk in morality
Dripping of mystery and class
Technology won’t hold me captive
I’ll hear nature whistle as i pass
Yet i can’t seem to picture
My soul drifting through,
The spheres of 1902

Omolola J.
I don tire
To dey worry my head
For the matter wey no concern me
But who say

Na so dem do so tey
Many things don wowo for this country
Na so dem gather my papa dem
Go fight second world war for Boma
And dem no sabi why

But dat one don tey
Hen, I sabi the one wey never tey
Maitasine gather people
Kill them like fowl
Throway them for rijiya
Na so boko something
Agbekoya, farmer s riot
And the water devils for Niger delta

I come Wake up
Come look every thing
Come see say
Tory don pafuka
Life don spoil
Life don wowo
Life don waka
Life no cost again

As robbers dey kill
Na so road dey kill
As kidnappers dey kill
Na so hunger dey kill
Na so the government carry hammer kill us
Dey kill us
Dey kill kill us
E don tey


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