Segun Ozique

Growing up in Lagos as a Christian with Muslim neighbours all around me was fun. I knew our religion was somewhat different from theirs but believed what separated us was just that they had different heroes from us; with us, it was Jesus Christ and them Muhammad. We attended our services unmolested or unchallenged as they did their many prayers and just like we do on Sundays, they have Fridays’ dressed-up grand assemblies. Despite the veil differentness which we saw as only ‘of mode of prayers and different heroes,’ it was a perfectly pleasant and non judgemental relationship. And, just as they always looked forward to and participated fully in our celebrations of Christ’s annual birthdays and all other Christian rites, so we also fully celebrated and habitually looked expectantly and with glee at their hero’s anniversaries and Islamic ceremonies. And up till when I became adult, the dramas of sin and redemption, absolution, preaching, conversion were all engagements done in priva

Do you pray every day through pains Do you have endless stream of tears Do you travel in lone roads of dead ends Come with me to pathfinder friend of mine Do you wake with screams of freedom? Do you feel lost, raped, stripped of rights? Do you suffer the indignity of inhumanity? Come with me to one with helpful solutions Have you gone back and forth in disaffection? Pray someday soon death come take the pains Tearing yourself for fate dealing you such blow Worry no more for He has rallied in waits with aid Open your heart ready to receive His embrace, to The one called Jesus, the Christ of the Holy Trinity

Ill prepared and dazed was my mind set; confused: Genuine nonplus; short of intelligence deficiency: That she man cleverly condemned to Mann the pans and pots Her gender God bequeathed the world’s most creative wonders It was my witness to dawn; to glorious regeneration The credence, caught the flow of my blood frozen My Chi left stumped in extreme stutter: A beholding, marvel and an infinite sense of awe This feelings still, to which I have no name That scene and sensation of no analysis Took complete possession of my soul No experiences of bygone had still explained Or all engine search of knowledge not turned futile to clarify To which therefore my submission; that Conception and birth remains wisdom Unexplained: A secret solemnity of a true genie.

  Once again on offer is the key to moving forward Opportunity many times offered pushed to tilter Born of one family left to float in Moses’ basket Raised bitter among lions bursting like thunder Roaring, spitting and spiteful fire at what not Heart filled, bile and brewed with spiked spices Bitterness so red it runs like river of stupidity Smoky sea easily ignited by silly sibling rivalry Darkly world of branches not seeing eye to eye All of these and more was my lot till this new tune: So this opportunity presented in floating feather I have grabbed still aware of the nonsense of old; All the tantrum like baggage of jumble in storage All be kept in view unlike friend ostrich head buried.