IN DEPENDENCE by A M M Winnie

In dependence
We felt the bitter pangs of hunger
Hunger that brought tears to the eyes
Eyes that cried for deliverance
Deliverance that was well hidden
Hidden in our roots
Roots that were looted.

In dependence
We cried for justice
Justice that never came to us
Us; Africans
Africans from Botswana to Uganda
Uganda to Mali to Tunis
Tunis to Zimbabwe to South Africa
South Africa to Sierra Leone to Nigeria
Nigeria: the proclaimed giant of Africa.

In dependence
We felt our blood flowing
Flowing deep from our wounds
Wounds from whips and abuse
Abuse of power by the masters
Masters whom we rebelled against and fought
Fought but never conquered.

In dependence
We feel we are independent
Independent yet we are not liberated
Liberated from slavery and anguish
Anguish suffered by the masses
Masses who have suffered
Suffered in the hands of the country that bore us.

In dependence
We celebrate victory
Victory of millions living in poverty
Poverty the father of mischief
Mischief our means of survival
Survival,  our striving and struggling
Struggling but never achieving.

In dependence
Our hearts are wounded
Wounded enough to make us crouch
Crouch and beg till we stop living
Living and dying in the darkness of our country
A country that has refused to help its children
Children: the ones that die before seeing the day.

In dependence
We have sang and written
Written letters upon letters
Letters to help us see the light
Light that is covered by darkness
Darkness that lays deep down in our hearts
Hearts that never rise
Rise above the boundaries set.

In dependence
We kill each order
Orderly we are disorderly
Disorderly we have lost our voices
Voices that are being stumped
Stumped till they die early
Early, the good ones die.

In dependence
We are writing again
Again, we are celebrating
Celebrating the dead giant gallantly
Gallantly, we will hold our heads up
Up above so we will rise
Rise like we never have.

In dependence
We hope we will become independent
Independent of hunger... Of terrorism
Terrorism, discrimination and inequality
Inequality of the citizens
Citizens that are buried deep
Deep under the ground of the powerful.

In dependence
We pray
Pray and act
Act and hope
Hope that we will be okay
Okay to celebrate a real independence
Independence without being in dependence.

Happy Independence Day.


A. M. M. Winnie
#poetic hood
#legal exponents
#Ifelaw
#OneNigeria

Awe by Egbewale Muyiwa J

                  AWE


Words fail
Speeches cease
We’re frail
 Our vocal lips are sealed
Marvellous
Is the very thought of you
How so helpless is man!
Who seeks to capture you
With history’s frailest plan;
Words

Just a bit of your creation
Render man speechless
The sparkle of the stars
A jot on the massive sky
Millions stop a bit to dote on.
 How much more the Magnificient sight of the clustered galaxies
O Incomprehensible God!
If words are not enough to describe your works
How much more the Worker!

Creator, I’m Awed!
Help me find my voice
In loving letters and sweet sounds
To you.

MUYIWA is a poet,musician and a public speaker.

"MY HUSTLE" (WIDE AWAKE) by SalewaBabs

The deafening sound of the car horn, brings a chill to my veins
The echo of the empty room
Ruminates in my head
The bright and macabre day looms ahead
The captivity of my freewill beckons
With my tightly knotted tie
And smoothly ironed shirt I set out,
In the delusional hope of maybe one day
I will bask at my bank account, marvel at my arts collections,
My mansion and my fancy rides
With finesse and garb I set out
The okada rider exclaims "idiot! You blind?"
The pregnant market woman,
Lost in the dysphoria of last night slaps and punches
From her husband stares pitifully at me
My sanguine aura starts the day
But ends it with despondency
After ceaseless search and unrest
I’m back to another miserable existence
An existence of hell on earth
How did I get here?
I need a hiatus from this cursed land
The land beseeches for fruitfulness
Take us back to the time
Of the first man and the first woman
My belly makes a beautiful rhythmic noise
The bus driver toils day and night for crumbs
But can’t stop
The conductor calls and screams
For places he cannot afford to live
Yet, he screams
The first-class graduate returns home
With rotten oranges and quashed hope
But still sets out
The Adroit man have exhausted his chest beating skills
To be in control
But still puts up with the facade
Where did they all go wrong?
The home for all and land of the dreamers
The land that has tasted the blood of the wretched
Swallowed the sweats of the able-bodied men
Sucked all their vigor and aspirations
And put out the fire of dreams,that burnt in their invigorating eyes
And awakened them to the realization that
The land is only for the strong willed and rugged
It is where the strong thrive and the weak turn to vapour
It is for those who want to leave a mark
It is the land where "hustle" never relents, rest or retires.

                                           
                                                              by SalewaBabs

THE CAMPUS ELITES by Ola Da Poet

The campus Elites

Who would have thought...
things change over time
Wind of change do take some attires off the line
Things get better but atimes they go sore
Castle of Awo fell
Comerades therein fled
Only the brave runs to fight another day
Campus hostel got decongested
All hail the king!!
Everyone went the other way
There are just two sets of students herein
The elites and the masses!

On my campus
The elites are not the ones that spray money around
Neither are they the ones that happens to wear the best
But those who are on okada while  others wait for the  never-coming bus

On my campus
Elites are not the people who eat with cutlery
Placing the forks and knives rightly
But the privileged few who gets the bus
While other trek to campus gate
A true herculean mission that takes forever

On my campus
The elites are not the ones ones with matching shoes and bags
Neither are they the ones on heels to lectures
But the ones  who fling their car keys
When others initiates the unending war of getting into a 'town gboro'
They  drive around in their cars
elites are not the 'off campus' livers
But the ones on the inside
As the 'off campuser' joins the struggle of destination daily
The insiders laugh and smile
'my abode is few blocks away'
We know who the elites are




Bello olanrewaju Emmanuel is a part 3 student of the faculty of Law. He is a social realist poet and currently the Assistant General Secretary of the Law Student Soceiety, Obafemi Awolowo University.

THE MIRROR by Jemima Okonkwo

The Mirror

"Mirror mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all? " asked the Queen. "You, my Queen, are the fairest", replied the Mirror. The Queen believed because the mirror said so. What does your mirror tell you? What do you believe your mirror tells you? Does it tell you, 'You are the greatest!' or ' Well, you can NEVER make it '. Guess what, your mirror is you. You are your mirror. You see you on that glass and it is only what you believe that you see.
The power of 'I AM' is as strong as the effect of water on a dying plant. Speak to yourself - who AM I? Then reply with confidence - I am Great.  I am Confident. I am Beautiful. I am Extraordinary. You will make it.
All it takes is to believe this. Speak to the mirror today and I promise, you will begin to live it.

© Jemima Okonkwo

THERE IS A COUNTRY BY LINCOLN

THERE IS A COUNTRY

There is a country,
Where suffering and smiling is the order of the day,
Where the commoner is left with his sorrowful thoughts after leaving the village square with a jaunty smile,
Where the leaders cajole the subjects before ascension into office but forget their vows thereafter.

There is a country,
Where embezzlement becomes competition among those in the corridors of power,
Where the strong room is unsafe that the Snake and Monkey are on the looters' list.
No one knows when the Elephant will trumpet.

There is a country,
Where the book and the pen has been rubbished,
When you leave the citadel, no work,
Where you work, no pay,
Even when you strike, they say 'no work, no pay',
But man must survive.

Behold the great country,
Where 2019 is now a popular figure,
Where everyone looks up to the 2019 for the arrival of the saviour.
Hmm! There is a country.

Composed by:

Adesanya Abiodun Samuel  (LINCOLN)

THE PURGE by Okonkwo Jemima

THE PURGE

Purge! Purge! Purge!
Purge us of this stink,
This stink in the form of a faceless people with a faceless leader.
A nation spread across our abode.

The nuisance, we call them,
Why do we nothing about them?
Are we so helpless or are they that strong?
Upon all our education,
They still seem smarter.
Taking us unawares at every given place and given time.
Where are our strategists, who are their sponsors?!

Just yesterday I saw a man struggling with a native of this nation in diaspora,
His herd of cattle destroyed the poor man's farm,
when he tried to act, his wife became the sacrificial lamb.
Now flows the blood of an innocent woman!
In channels across the field,
Yet nothing was done.
How will her soul rest in peace?

A fortnight ago, dozens from a village were wiped out,
Innocent people snuffed out!
For reasons left unknown.
They say they are the originators of the land,
Yet I ask, what land?
Whether this be a protest, it doesn't seem like it at all,
This has got to do with so much more.

The killing, oh the killings,
The attacks, oh the attacks,
Blood, blood everywhere.
We do need a break!
Please let us think,
find the root cause of this happenings,
Provide a solution to end this menace,
We need to rid ourselves of this malignant tumor,
and we need to do it NOW!

#stopthekillings
#we'renoteasypickings
#nomoredefencelessness
#nomoreherdsmenattack
#letusliveinpeace



Okonkwo Jemima Chineye is a 300level student  of the Faculty of Law, Obafemi Awolowo University, ile-ife.
She is a freelance writer with great penchant to inspire people through her stories and poetry.

THE UNTOLD STORY OF MY LOVER by BIN ZAK

O! people of this land

Before you lie my poor lover

I have followed her night and day

Even in the darkest hours of night

Everything I have done in cherish of her fragile grace

I have traded my favourite friends

In substitution for her pleasure

Here my spirit, turning away from her sight

Here I am, crying in anguish

Here I stand, with the heaviest burden under the sky

Wandering endlessly with the memory of sadness

Then seeing the sky with its brightness and golden colour

The fire of joy returns to my face

I have got a story that has never been told

                         BIN ZAK

A TRIBUTE TO AN IFELAW LEGEND

Silence. Confusion. Wrath. Lost. Tears!

What hope do we have in this world but fears?

The news of an untimely timeless passage

Of a young man full of promise and courage

On this day I turn into a mourning poet

On this day I picked up my pen and write

Of an innocent man veered by death’s bite

From a well-planned future and assurance

Living us with a tale, a bit, a remembrance

On this day I become a mourning poet

He was an influencer, a mentor, a leader

A human relation specialist; a respected peer

Few days to be called to the Nigerian bar

Untamed death disbarred him before the bar

On this day I become a mourning poet

For all his dogged struggle; for all his fights

For the well-built repute; for the sleepless nights

All gone in a jiffy? One time Ifelaw President

Rest in peace brother! Truly this life is for rent

The mourning poet mourns OLANIRAN Quadri

© OLABODE Oladapo Samuel (THE SMILING MAN)

CELEBRATING NIGERIA by AKINKUOTU IBUKUN (IBK)

CELEBRATING NIGERIA🇳🇬

I have not lived half of the years.
But alot of things have come into my ears,
I was not there at the beginning,
So they said I can't begin it,
I read the histories of them all,
But they said I can't know their stories,
I have seen the lucid path,
But they said I can't be part of it,
The good thoughts keep coming,
But it seem to them cunny,
The pleas I know of
But they said it was just a show of
The slavery I was told about
But they said that was not their full whereabouts
My teacher told me of the fights
That was so tight
And even after so many flights
They still could not withhold the glimpse of the sight,
The wars they fought,
Till their graves,is still in their thoughts,

They didn't mind death
Cause all they wanted was peace on earth
Their land,
Their sand,
Their soil,
Their toil,
They wanted all back,
Because the whitemen almost took all with them in their sack,
They were tired of DEPENDENCE
So they ran for INDEPENDENCE
They never gave up,
They knew alot was up,

They are the reason we are NIGERIANS
They are the reason behind NIGERIA
They have fought a good fight,
And have won the good sight,

My country is yet 57
I know I am more than 7
But even if my country is crawling like a baby @57
I know it will...
RISE!
WALK!
SHINE!
BE GREAT!
COME ALIVE!
At a time that is very close

HAPPY INDEPENDENCE NIGERIA!
MY COUNTRY OF GREAT POTENTIALS!
I CELEBRATE YOU ALWAYS!

#Nigeria@57🇳🇬

AKINKUOTU IBUKUN,
LLB1.

NOSTALGIA

NOSTALGIA

Last night, I watched the moon alone
And its glow reminded me o’ you
Beautiful, bright and dominant

Last night, I got stuck in the past
Entangled as a bird in lime twigs
The moon glowed way into the night
And I, her cold company kept

I heard your voice in the wind
And it gently warmed my heart
But for some reason, it also killed me inside

Dark and Still, my mood blended
Perfectly with the night’s
So I closed my eyes and thought o’ you
A nightingale sang and mocked my grief

Memories o’ you ran through my head
And I could swear I saw your face
Smelt your hair and felt your skin

But Soon, the moon faded, and you with her
Cold and lonely; nostalgic and empty
I missed the way it feels around you       

©Ademola Adewuyi Adeyoju
Call/Whatsapp:08136593482

BEFORE YOU ASAKE I STAND BOLDLY NAKED by OLABODE Oladapo Samuel (THE SMILING MAN)

      BEFORE YOU ASAKE I STAND BOLDLY NAKED

Before you Asake,
I’ll strip off my delicate clothe and stand naked
These clothes have covered my body long enough
Defending it from sword, sun and shame
Tattered, shabby and muddy they have become
Courageously I’ll rend and lay them to rest
Before you Asake I’ll stand boldly naked

Before you Asake,
I’ll step by step recount my long lasting ordeals
Telling the origin of each scar drawn on my body
Memories of lost duels alone without a victory
Hunted, drained, gotten, I stand before you
You alone are my last reason for living
Before you Asake I’ll stand boldly naked

Before you Asake,
Lies the alternative choices of living or dying
These choices, meant for me, you make for me
I’m an ever-defeated assaulted warrior of love
All I ever wanted is to love and be loved
All I ever received are these ugly scars
Before you Asake I stand boldly naked

Before you Asake,
I recount my stories as a warrior of love
How from the beginning I carried the white flag
How till the end I steadily fail, fall and fail
Drained, tired and weak, I lay down my arms
Heal the scars or engrave the deep last scar
Before you Asake I stand naked, boldly

OLABODE Oladapo Samuel (THE SMILING MAN)
Faculty of Law,
Obafemi Awolowo University,
Ile-Ife, Nigeria.

+2348176561958

[email protected]

THE MORNING AFTER... by Akinbola Oyetayo Michael (Teelaw)

THE MORNING AFTER...

I have often watched grandpa
With utmost and unmatched admiration.
Even at seventy-eight, he basks still
In an array of youthful vigour.

Grandpa was a soldier,
A man of the khakis.
Mother said he fought in the war
That kept my country ;
The war that kept us apart.

One evening, while grandpa was taking
His evening bacon his stretch chair,
I saw on his bare chest, close to his arm
A scar from a bullet wound.
Like a dreamer from a trance, he opened his eyes
And beckoned me to take a closer look.

"Adisa", he said "it is not untrue that time heals
But time, my son, only heals the Physical"
He fought the tears welling in his eyes.
"I fought in the war and lost my lots-
Friends whose families knew not for which
Course they fought."
"Their death gored my heart for they died on another man's course.
It mattered not on whose side they fought
Because in wars, there are no winners,
Just dead men...
The hero is the man who walks home alive"

"Omo Akin", he continued,
"There are only four courses in a man's life-
The morning when he is born;
Noon when he fights his own wars;
The evening when he fights the wars of others
And the morning after when he nurses the
Scars from his warring past.
This is my morning after, a gored heart from the wars"

Akinbola Oyetayo Michael (Teelaw)
Faculty of Law,
Obafemi Awolowo University,
Ile-Ife, Nigeria.

A PAGE FROM THE PAST by An Alumnus of Faculty of Law, OAUIFE

A PAGE FROM THE PAST

Let me tell you a short story
Let me take you back in time

One evening in the middle of June  
In a small town that bred me
It rained cats and dogs
Apparently little snails too

The wind howled outside our hut
Endless series of successive wails
Our roof groaned and creaked
Against the relentless force of nature

The candles flickered desperately
The door shook violently against its hinges
Our world was enveloped by a certain darkness
A darkness so palpable it was almost felt

Mama shivered gently on the cold mat
Her heart pumped madly; her feet grew cold
A soft sob, a single tear, a quiet sniff
That cold evening, mama cried
While father’s body; at least what’s left
Got soaked six feet beneath the soil

That wet night, we tossed and turned
Our empty stomachs growled in concert
Our worlds felt smaller; our hopes slowly shrank
Our candles soon burnt out; sleep yet came

Many cold evenings we’ve had since
Some a lil’ better, some a lil’ worse
Some a lil’ warmer, some a lil’ colder
Some I still remember, some in oblivion lost

Listen, I’m afraid you’d look at me differently
Yea, I’m scared it’ll wound my pride
I’m terrified of what it’d do to your view of me
If I bared for you, just a page from the past

          ©Adeyoju Ademola Adewuyi             Call/Whatsapp (08136593482)

ANGEL AND DEMON

ANGEL  AND  DEMON

I  sin,  but  I’m  not  the  devil
I’m  pure,  but  my  mind  is  twisted
I’m  good,  but  I’m  not  an  angel
I  soar,  but  my  wings  were  made  in  flames

In  the  stygian  depth  of  my  soul
In  the  deepest,  darkest  recesses
Lurks  two  opposing  forces
A  little  angel  and  a  little  demon

I’ve  walked  through  the  fires  of  hades
Sauntered  through  the  gardens  of  heaven
I’m  afflicted  with  grave  torments
And  adorned  with  a  magical  peace

My  angel  counsels  me  to  be  sincere
My  devil  seals  my  lips  with  blood
Pleasure  and  pain  aye  abide  my  bosom
Both  emotions;  my  dark,  crude  inventions

I’d  choose  a  side,  but  I’m  mortally  terrified
If  I  banish  my  demon,  I  might  lose  my  angel

© Adeyoju Ademola  
An Alumnus of the Faculty of Law,
OAU, ILE-IFE.

The lady with the red veil By L. E. O

The lady with the red veil
By L. E. O


Have you seen her?

I mean the lady with the red veil

Her breathtaking body she refuse to reveal

Is ever tempting in the eye of the covetous molester

She is endowed with countless values

Indeed she is a woman of virtue

Undiluted joy is experienced when you lay at her feet

Unarguably her smile to anyone is a treat

Its like the sunrise in winter you'd never pray for it to set

It will strike through you heart like a comet

Her ebony dark shimmers so bright

Under the full silver line moonlight

Whenever we converse my senses take to flight

Verily she is rare comparable to a straight line formed by the planets

And to this beauty I dedicate my first ever sonnet

L.E.O

Loneliness By Dosunmu Sarah

Loneliness
By Dosunmu Sarah

I feel am dieing on the street,

But no one can see me.

I'm losing my wits,

But no one to restore it.

My hand has lost it's firm grip,

Am slipping, slipping, slipping...

But no hand with a firm grip!

No one for me wants to trip.

Am lost, lonely, loveless...

People feel am useless.

For love I crave,

But am locked in a cave.

Who will save me from this Loneliness?

Crave I only for happiness?

Day after day, I sit and watch true love happen.

I think in my mind, need I all these?

But am human, and since anything can happen,

Then I'll wait till someone can all my pain ease.

Dosunmu Sarah
LLB1

LISTEN!: (The Agony of a Little Child) By AKINKUOTU Ibukun and OLALEKAN Temidayo

If only you can let me have my say,
And stop standing in my way.
I listen to you;my leaders everyday!
But I wonder: Why don't you do the same?
My speaking agony that is not heard makes me rather go insane.
After all my efforts to speak and to be heard all went in vain.

I walk alone at the river bank,
Because I am tired of hierarchy of rank.
That is used as the criteria in every society.
I listen to my parents...
Why don't they do the same?
Why not one time, let me express my own individuality?

My heart sink in all the way.
I try to speak,to be heard but now my voice is vague!
Burning desire to share and express,
But you give me no chance and you seek no redress.
Myriads and more,I want to say to you,
But now you quench my words,am as pale as blue!

I sit and await that day that will never come,
When you will stand and say "am all ears,speak on!"
If only you could open your eyes to the reality,
That there is more to me than a presumed nonentity.
If only you could open your eyes to my plead,
That true leaders do not lead the followers but follow to lead.

If just one day you remember my agony,
That has led me to this state of melancholy.
I have called my little conscience into war,
Because all my leaders come and go with the same flaw.
I believe, one day, I will have my liberation,
After all my feeble thoughts have been put into consideration.

Hear! O hear!
Hear what I have to share.
Please I plea, Look upon me with mercy,
Pity my dying potential, which upon your negligence, has become dusty.
I sit and await that day still stands opaque,
When you will say, "Speak on, O little child, without delay!"

BY: AKINKUOTU Ibukun LLB1 and
       OLALEKAN Temidayo LLB1
       Faculty of Law,
       Obafemi Awolowo University, Ile-Ife, Nigeria.

The Stranger by L. E. O

The Stranger by L. E. O

Its midnight
Lusaka bar is on fire
Dancing with her close up and skin tight
a night with a stranger
Highly tipsy
With everything hazy
The figure in front of me rules this terrazzo
As the rhythm hijacks our souls
Of course our minds have wandered off
Lost in thin air along side the cigarette puff
With our senses on vacation
There's no such thing as moderation
We are surely going to get wasted
To this coke bottle shaped body I remain magnated
I just can't take my eyes off this waist
Certainly I must get a taste
I was smiling wryingly
she was laughing gleefully
Seems she wants some
and I have more
Just today we are sure of
So I'd rather shrug it off
All my worries and leave them ashore
Let my heart be set ablaze by the burning liquor
Finally the lustful duo staggered to the car.
Dragged out of oblivion by the pain emanating from a leg scar
A church bell fell down in my head
Where am I? Where is the stranger?where is the car?

LAPITE EMMANUEL OLAMIDE (L. E. O)
LLB1

Investment for development :"Writ Wit" By Egbewale Muyiwa Johnson

Investment for development
            "Writ Wit"

Out of the outburst of man
Speaks the innermost
Our pains and plan
We have made known to you most

From our soul box and crest
We have cried out to you in the way
we know best
the road of peace we have plied
as we express our plights

all our pleas
all our cries
is your investment in us
for a no low profit will you get

at the verge of ruin and destruction
is any nation
who with contempt treats its youth
for her development will never be smooth

you hope for a better tomorrow
try reasoning out with us
the leaders of tomorrow
who are like palm kernels
your investment in us
hammers out the hidden treasures
to make tomorrow count
let us first make today count
by investing in us the youth of this time
to squeeze out the juice in our lime.

Egbewale Muyiwa Johnson
(LL.B 1)