They will never know
The ruin their wicked hands had done
On the destiny of this world
For every young soul that depart this world
Through the tragic exist into the transcendental glades
A part of the future dies unredeemed forever
Dunga!
The son of Atandi
You are that little bird
That will never learn how to fly
You are that little lion
That will never know how to roar
You are the lightening
That came unnoticed
Without thunders nor storms
You are warrior whose blade of valour was taken
Dunga like Dube, like Fosun,
Like the thousands of millions
Who all died in their prime
Is a victim of the gods of power
Those drunk from the gouge of wealth and plenty
Overflowing with the blood oozing from innocent skulls
Those overfed with the flesh of the oppressed
Who stole ballot to sit behind secured walls of lies
You are a victim and so are we
We did not start this war we are fighting
Dunga
I stand before you grave to remind you
Your father placed a knife in your coffin
And your mother a pestle of gun powder
They said before you turn your back on them forever
And reunite with the world where you are bound
Fight everyone who had a hand in your death
Haunt them to make their world a hell
In their castles of peace
Break their bones
In their bars of wine
Burn their barns
Burry their homes in anger
Forever!!!
© Olatuja Oloyede
Dunga! Dunga! Dunga!
How many times did I call you?
Do not wait
Until your bones become flakes of dust in its grave
Do not wait
Until your voice fades from our heart
Soon across the hills of years
You be that mystery living in our hearts
They said you'd sailed the great river
Never to return to the land of your birth
But your prints are still unwashed on the shore
Do not forgive the hungry hands that murdered you
Those cold hands of death that brought your dreams an abrupt end
Yes man is a frail being
But too many good people have died
And here we are in a world
Sinking into a furlong darkness
An eternal darkness of evil
We can't control the descent of death
We dread the hell that is to come
Nothing can redeem us that is within us
When will the dead avenge their death
When will peace be restored to this desperate world
O Dunga!
Do not sleep
*******the end*******
© Olatuja Oloyede
That morning when the shriek cry of mama
Pierced the peace of a weird dawn
Asueke stood by my bed
Shaking my legs with feverish hands
Beckoning me to rise
Her face furrowed in agony
In some meaningless whispers
She mentioned your name and said nothing more
But I knew whatever she has to say
Her silence is nothing good
So I lobbied my way to your hut
A crowd flared with tears gathered at papa's yard
What news had awoken the land
To sit here on their mat of dirge
Some with both hands balanced on opened mouths
Some heads bowed in defeated sorrow
But in the center of your room
You lie on your termite bed without head
Your skin still glowed in its youth
Even though you are dismembered
Your soul is hurried from us
To lurk restlessly yonder
They say they picked you along Buamba's path
The path beyond the stream leading to the groove
Your head was found also in a bag hidden among bamboo clusters
The evil maniacs had placed their cursed hands
Upon your head flourishing with dreams
© Olatuja Oloyede
I stand here by your grave without tears
Though my heavy heart is a shattered debris
I have no flowers to place over your eternal bed
No will to sing those songs that died when you died
I am here only to remind you
Dunga! Dunga!! Dunga!!!
Son of Atandi
Thrice I call you
Turn awhile from your dance of immortality
Stare at humanity from your cloudy palace
Do not roam the parches of the elusive realm
You don't belong there
Your mother sits by her hearth every morning
Old, broken and childless
Her sagging head bowed in defeat
Atandi, your father longs to be with his father too
For no man has suffered a greater woe
Than a man who knows the grave of his children
So join not in the frenzy dance of the dead
Do not sing in the solemn assembly of the ghost yet
Come back to the tears of your parents
Of your friends and loved ones
Bring justice to the pains of our troubles
Avenge your death
O Dunga!
Son of Atandi
Fate has led the way
Over many a thousand hills
To become an hermit in a hut
In this forbidden enclave
Neighboured by vipers
Brothered by scorpions
My spirit dampened
As fences of expectations crumbled
What exactly is this unfolding?
Why is life humming in hoarse tones
Too deranged for my learning lips
Why is time pacing down an isle
Too jumbled for my aching feet
They say good things can be
Shrouded with rags of dirt
And some meats served on golden platters
Are better left for rover dogs
What then are the treasures
Hidden in this raging of towering fears of mine?
However, a weird satisfaction
Like a sailing dew settles in my heart
I'm might be at the threshold
Of certain excitements yet unknown
Maybe one day
I might love the adventures of seclusion
I have thrown myself into
The arms of the uncertainty
I can only pray the stale prayer of a long wayfarers
Benue better be a blessing
The day has finally broken from its ripened shells
I have come with my bags of dreams
And my burdens of hope across my shoulders
It's not my intention to let down my arms
In the fight of survival
Until I clip the wings of the wind
And make plain the heights of frustration
Brecht at sundry times once wrote
A kola I will like to chew my own way
"If I fight I may win
If I don't I have lost"
My feet are baptised in of this distant dust
My boots longs for washing
Even my dress tattered by the anxiety of the road
Could rob me of some warm greetings
The gods of my belly are craving without apology
The daily sacrifices that must lie butchered
In the sacred alters of the mouth
So I set out to measure my fate
And that was the beginning
Of a story told only in gay silence of a voyager
One woman at the end of that brownish road
The madam of the highly patronized canteen
Called with dignified greetings
“Oga Corper... Corper Corper!
Teach my sons
I will give you food for free
And some money when every old moon is young again”
Another man, a man of many names
Rich men are see in wavering colours
In respect to the uniform of intelligence
Says to my gladdened ears
“Teach my girls
I will pay you handsomely”
For a moment I danced
The blessings my father is paving a path in the unfamiliar wild
I forgot that the mouths sometimes says things
Beyond the workings of eager hands
That just as the green uniform excites me
It also engenders an euphoric rhythm
Among the ambitious desires of the strangers too
It was not far before long
That I realised that some promises are uncertain prophecy
Of what we all desire
Those promises which sound so sweet
Are often made but never kept
© Olatuja Oloyede
Watch out for part 7

Update on the Idylls of Love....
Wow..... I thought this poem will be ready in a week but obviously.... It's gradually rolling into weeks and I can't just stop writing about these two lovers.... The story is taking me farther than I bargained and as soon as the boat man agrees to take me back home.... I will tell you what I saw in the enchanted plains of love.... So my dear friend, what this poetic muse is showing me is too vast to be told in a day or a week or a month... A little patience....I will tell you the trilling love story by God's grace....
That's that....but wait o.... Are you a child of God....? No.... I'm serious.... Do you have a working relationship with Christ who died to set you free from the slavery of sin and condemnation? You see, I may have some good verse to offer you but a lasting peace is only guaranteed in Christ.... I offer you Jesus today my friend... Invite Him to forgive and cleanse you... He will give you peace in this world... And everlasting peace on the other side.
Amen...