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NIGER AREA CANTATA

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The hills of Enugu applauded the
exposition.
Olumo smiled from her position.
The southern streams catwalked to her
seat’s edge;
As the northern ball lit up the stage.
“Now on to the crux of the matter,
Welcome to the ‘Niger Area Cantata’
Frederick had always loved adventure –
Or, so was the palpable conjecture.
If not, why will he flee his heaven,
And trot to the hard have-nots’ haven?
Why would he shut his eyes
from beautiful butterflies kissing lilies
by the seas?
Why did he rather bare his flies
to the brandished proboscis and fleas?
Could it be that the too many “c’est ne
pas” in the French lexicography,
Had been why he didn’t take Flora to
Paris FOR her photography?
Maybe, we’d ask Osun,
Who allowed him paddle the nipples of
her waters.
In respect, we’d ask Ogun,
Who allowed the mad nomad
razzmatazz his matters.
We’d in total reverence quiz Amadioha,
Why his thunder claps and rumblings
scared him not.
Why didn’t nature protect for this virgin
what they owe her?
We’d address residue questions to the
northern gods who turbans bought.
And so, the fishes shook hands with the
aquatic debris;
As their ship blared back to Canterbury.
And so before Frederick’s feet secreted
his feat,
The natives conceded defeat;
offering him and his bum a seat.
They offered all they could afford.
Yes, they crowned him their lord.
“Gratitude for speaking our Creole,
To your angelic tongue by the gods we
know it’s cruel.
Many thanks for stealing our crude,
May it placate your anger at letting you
see us nude.
The lord who abhors the job of the
sluggard,
Our undisputed Frederick Lord Luggard.”
So, Frederick straightened the land’s
dignified contours,
And doctored their doctors.
He stripped the natives of their regalia
of nakedness.
With the Pence, he bought them the
lenses of wickedness.
Beheading James decorated his wrists,
He moved on to being Oliver Twist.
He unsheathed his swords;
Made them swallow their words.
He sheathed their penis,
But forgot to discard where their pen is.
Then, he invited his kinds in legions,
Biblicized their religions.
He dragged the unwilling public.
Public yet to see hairs ,pubic.
He wedded nineteens to fourteens
Even when they were yet teens.
And so one eventide,
During one of such love love ride,
Frederick his mistress, tickled.
She shyly reacted with a giggle.
Again, he tickled;
And again, she giggled.
Her giggle sounded like “Nigeria”,
“The land of Niger Area”.
Perfect name for a country budding;
Perfect game for the people he was
lording.
Hardest of feats are achieved without
flexing a muscle.
There, with a giggle, she’s solved his
puzzle!
And so, all through this mock marriage,
It’s been a tale of saboteurs,
nationalists and a sage.
And so, the fishes shook hands with the
aquatic debris;
As their ship blared back to Canterbury.
When the teen turned 60 with
uncertainties,
With the residue of his father’s property,
the heir was settled like an apprentice.
Propagandized media prints;
Beheaded thumb prints.
Shovels of laws,
Dug fossils of wars.
Echoes of neglect,
Birthed stench of the elect.
The future, frankly nebulous;
The vocal focal view, at a loss.
Coup cooed dirges of wickedness.
The ravenous craves for the black,
swallowed our greenness.
Biafra fried fickle flexibility for freedom.
Fragility hence usurped freshness in this
kingdom.
And so, the fishes shook hands with the
aquatic debris;
As their ship bled back to Canterbury.
Hundred years after being teen spouses-
After Khaki shorts had been replaced by
multi coloured trousers,
Time mated with enlightenment.
The pen romantically entangled himself
with entertainment.
The nimbus fell off St. Frederick’s head.
We now see why he fled when we bled
red.
We see his bugs and ticks in our
politics.
We see the formula of tricks in his
mathematics.
We don’t need more of his questions to
solve our equations.
We have the salt and water for a
solution.
With the Eyeseepeasea and Earfseesea’s
chats,
We got blotted off of the most corrupt
countries’ charts.
We ruptured Saint Fagots’ structure
By simply arc knowledge in our culture.
With “there’s God o ” scenes in the
rears,
We curbed Boko bombs and the
insurrection fears.
With choking jokes, salt water and Kola,
We deported Sawyer’s Ebola.
With our multi-layered arts,
The bull’s eyes attest to the precision of
our darts!
With our multi-layered arts,
We engrave the history of our hearts.
And so, the fishes shook hands with the
aquatic debris,
As their ship blared back to Canterbury.”

(c) GRRRACIANO

Graciano Enwerem {Grrraciano} is a Spoken Word poet, writer and teacher. A graduate of English And Literary Studies, Imo State University. He’s the winner of War Of Words 3, YouPoetry Slam, 9 times winner of Sea View’s Poetry Challenge, Winner Of War Of Words Online slam 1 and cofounder of Figures Of Speech {F.O.S.}, the first online creative group on whatsapp. He’s been proffered so many awards which include the SPIC Most Outstanding Achiever Of The Year, 2014, IFA’s Atonisona Of Poetry Award, 2015 and was also voted the number 1 poet on EGC Top 50 Contemporary Poets Who Rocked Nigeria in 2016.…

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