“WHERE IS OUR BENUE” WRITTEN BY LINUS AJENE, IN MEMORY OF THE DEPARTED SOULS OF THE MIDDLE BELT REGION

LINUS WAS ALSO A FINALIST OF THE TONY TOKUNBO FERNANDEZ INTERNATIONAL ONLINE POETRY COMPETITION 2018

WHERE IS OUR BENUE

For some days (if not weeks) or months or rather years now, I have got my torchlight looking for our BENUE – the BENUE of many years ago where goats and lions traded in the same market and they could make peaceful transactions including trade by barter and the atmosphere would still maintain her tranquil breeze that makes everyone smiles affectionately; but I have not seen that ancient, glorious BENUE. So, where is our BENUE.

Where is our BENUE? The BENUE where I only read about killings from books and I once told SAM, my friend that, “this must be a make-belief story; how can a man kill a fellow man” when I read the story of killings from books and newspaper, and SAM would say in his natural pragmatic way, “TOM, I believe it happens”. I only got to agree with SAM when I got to Borno State, but now killings have become the daily news headline in BENUE. I ask, where is our BENUE?

I can no longer sleep. When I close my eyes, I hear the voice of children and women wailing all over the street of Okpoga, seeking justice, crying about their lives made short and their dreams got shattered. The street of Okpoga is covered with plenty ghosts from Logo, Guma, Agatu, Gwer West, Gwer East, Omusu and other places of the killing. They are crying from Okpoga to Otukpo and to Gboko, seeking where to tender their case. They are homeless ghosts scattered around with tears flooding the streets and mixing with the pool of blood in River Benue. This is not our BENUE. Tell me, if you have mouth to talk, where our BENUE is?

Our River Benue is no longer the place of tourism and fishing. No water there anymore-it is now River of blood, the blood of the innocents. Our lakes and spring waters have rather become pools of fresh blood, no more water and no single food in our basket anymore; the basket is full of the heads of men, women and children. Smoke everywhere; but can the smoke take the cry of the innocent souls to Heaven?
I am still waiting for your answer, where is our BENUE?

Who had stolen our BENUE? Who had bedeviled our BENUE? Who had bewitched our BENUE?

Where is our BENUE.

———
Abah, Linus Ajene was born in Ogo Oluwa L.G.A. of Oyo State and brought up in Idiri Okpoga in Okpokwu L.G.A. of Benue State where he has his biological root. He is a 400L student of Benue State University studying English/Education with the ambition of become an African Literature scholar as he progresses in life with time. He was the first runner-up of the 2017 Albert Jungers Poetry Prize and was also shortlisted for the 2018 Tony Tokunbo Fernandez International Poetry Competition. He is the current President of Writers League, Benue State University chapter. He write poems and prose-fictions.

MOTHER WILL BE WELL AGAIN

Yesterday, I wore agbada; today I’m in suit
Which one fit my black face?

Sunrise rises with indignation-
Beating me in my face to the wall
Crying the cry of my misery only fuels
the imbroglio of my nightmare
I’m a child of a Mother seeking a new mother
that will mother me into a warrior

I heard Mother had breast fed warriors
I heard She was dark, tall and strong:

Mother is alive-breathing hard to survive
I’m Her child chased to the cage to be caged
from Her tears
I’m the child seeking oases in my father’s land
I’m the child castrated by the mixed history of Mother

Listen!
Mother is bleeding heavily:

Yesterday;
Jack and Jim raped Mother at the bank of
Nile when the day was calmed
But the world was deaf when She cried
Mother was defiled by strangers

All I heard, all I know-
Mother was raped after Berlin’s meeting:

But, where is father?
Father should hold his arrow-
I mean his hunting arrow
That has brought down elephants and
tamed the howling mouth of hyenas
To avenge for Mother

Oh! Father was bedeviled-
I heard the tale:

Jack came to pray for father
Jim clothed father with suit and hangman’s rope
Father was tricked to England
He left his arrow at the feet of Kilimanjaro

I dream to become a man
With amplified voice:

I’m still a running-nose kid of Mother
Whenever I hear of Mandela; of Wiwa; of Senghor-
Of the scars that greeted their skins after their shout-outs
I fear to raise my voice to speak for Mother

Hope for Mother and me is jingling
And in the next wet season, I will talk:

I have elders of the great savannah-
Despising father’s dancing steps
Holding firm their flutes
Singing songs of the revolution

And let the whole ears hear that-
We have Voices and we have flutes:

In prison and in pains
They cling to their flutes
Singing, singing, singing
Singing for me that Mother is alive
And Mother will be well again

*                                         *                                                     *

Abah, Linus Ajene was born in Ogo Oluwa L.G.A. of Oyo State and brought up in Idiri Okpoga in Okpokwu L.G.A. of Benue State where he has his biological root. He is a 400L student of Benue State University studying English/Education with the ambition of become an African Literature scholar as he progresses in life with time. He write poems and prose-fictions.

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The Nigerian Community Association in Bradford in conjunction with Just a little help organisation presents “UK IMMIGRATION TODAY FROM A HUMANITARIAN PERSPECTIVE” on Saturday the 23rd of June at The Fields Sports and Social Club, Chelsea Road, Bradford BD7 2RE

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A portrait in our living room carries my father’s smile
Like it’s the only thing his teeth were meant for
He was standing next to mother
Smile gently creamed on her lips
Like a snowflake
Something that has ended
Even before it begun.
There are times I spent the night
Looking at this picture
Like it’s the only surviving leaf
Upon the face of hostile water
Creating mental pictures of father
Plucking roses on the lawn
And mother smelling them,
Giggling and throwing them up in the air
Imageries of mother standing before father, naked
Watching her own body through his eyes
More than she’d ever done with the mirror
And once, she’d held my hand and told me
Someday I’ll understand why God gave me
Hands to fight and legs to run
That was before she became the reflection
Of a yellow sun on the body of a snowy rock
But then I have always known photographs are stories
Only told by strangers.

Profile:
Name: Micheal Ace
Nationality: Nigeria
Religion: Christianity
Place of birth: Osun state, Nigeria
Occupation: Poet, publisher and computer scientist

Social Media Info
Blog/Website: www.myaceworld.net
Email: poetmichealace@gmail.com
Facebook: Micheal Ace
Twitter: @lordace32
Instagram: poetmichealace
Mobile/Whatsapp: 08166110313

Biography
Micheal Ace is a poet and writer currently living in Ibadan, Nigeria.
A computer scientist with a strong passion for poetry. His works have
appeared on African writer, Praxis magazine, Kalahari review, Lunaris
review, Tuck magazine and elsewhere. He has authored two poetry
chapbooks titled ‘Sermon from a stammerer’ and ‘Scarlet silk’.

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ODE TO MAMMARY GLANDS

My breasts are tender

Yet they tender

From cradle to king sized

Of call to babies

Mildly they suckle

Possessively they kindle

And all I do is bear tenderly

Caressing your cheeks

As I surrender my bosom

Tendering all my life

On plains where blooms flourishes

Rendering tenderly they flapped with pride

I wear my nudity with decency

My busts no longer hold this world in firm delight

My nectar shrivel to earth with fulfilment

And nature flagged it down with grace

For I bloomed for its savour

I wane from its pleasure

Gift Amukoyo Foraine. Born on 23 April hails from Delta, Sapele, Nigeria. Attended Delta State University where she studied English and Literary Studies and currently on her PGD in Mass Communication at the Nigerian Institute of Journalism.

She is a studios literatus who peruse with great delight, any good story she lays her hands on. Sheis a budding poetess; 1st Asa Poetry Prize Winner, 2014-2nd Edition, writer in other literary genres,as well as a book reviewer and an editor.

A spirited young lady encompassed with zeal to brainstorm innovative ideas and work on existing phenomenon and ideologies. She is jovial and on the sunny side of life with passion for research and result.

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