The Assassination of X

Sometime in January, Boko Haram terrorists razed a town in
North East, Nigeria killing a 'woman in labor.' In the words of a
witness, “Half of the baby boy (was) out and she died like this.”
This poem is for the unnamed boy who I called 'X.'

And who hears when we call and comes running?

Who waits up for us and keeps the lamp burning

To show the path home when twilight is dawning?

Who reaches out when we face a chasm yawning?

And swoops us up just before we keel over falling

To our deaths in a fissure that is always gnawing?

The value of x is, for all practical purposes, unresolved;

He’ll for all time be a mystery because he died unnamed,

His spot is uninhabited for he never set foot on this sod.

The death of x is, beyond all reasonable doubt, a shame;

Not he or his Mama deserved that baptism in cold blood,

No one will ever know what x was cut out for or his gain.

The tale of x is, contrary to common belief, an ill weapon

To bludgeon the foe cause he died before he came thence,

We can turn pain to gain and make them pay for our loss.

The value of our x they must be made to feel, is priceless.

Akpan

Dragons of Home

This war on terror is a lot more about the victims-the dead, the displaced,
the missing-than the psychos wreaking havoc. We shouldn't lose sight of
the big picture and end up defeated.
On the side, what do you think they did to this poor girl to make her strap
explosives around her waist? This is our future going up in smoke.

You’re not here n’ how the clause spawns an electric

Arc that saturates this terrain in a wakeless gray rage

I can still hear your voices carried on the night wind,

Deep down the cove where I tuck my private self away,

Full and inextinguishable as it rides down the throes

Of cruel death and irreversible moldering of the bones;

You come to me in my quietude and unknot the knots

And as the puzzle sorts itself out a shape starts to form;

A friend’s face bending in and out of form taunting me

Begging not to be an option but a number one priority

You’re not here and I’m not there and the difference is

All the world but I won’t turn the page and close my eyes

To the heat, it’s the thorn in my flesh that only I must pick

If I must find peace. It’s all about you, it’s hi time I realize

This war aint about Shekau but you free to breathe, to be,

To dig into all of life’s peculiarities as experience hands it

Down the tube. You deserve the attention and compassion

Showered on you and the memories of you will still live on,

That is one fine article of this assurance I will never break

Until triumph busts open the gates bearing you in its wake.

Akpan

Switched

For all those years I thought the Boko Haram insurgency was
an extended spell of the infamous Northern Nigeria riots

Incomplete, that’s the definition of me without a you

It’s taken me a while but the blinders are down it’s true.

I’ve seen my wrong I know I’ve been such a fool not to.

Unfeeling had me like and I said, ‘It’ll pass.’ That’s cruel.

Why do I visualize paradise but get paralyzed

By the sight of you otherwise immortalized?

I’ll rime till it’s sunrise n’ your night turns brite,

Time I switched sides, be a bona fide paradigm.

‘A few more days,’ I said, ‘and it’ll be gone with the wind.’

While you died in plain sight I let fear lax my heartstrings,

But time taught me not to wait for what tomorrow brings;

I am what brings tomorrow so I rise on a dayspring scream.

Why do I visualize paradise but get paralyzed

By the sight of you otherwise immortalized?

I’ll rime till it’s sunrise n’ your night turns brite,

Time I switched sides, be a bona fide paradigm.

Akpan

WWNF

WWNF is ab for We Will Never Forget. If the on-going negotiations with
the Boko Haram terrorists means the Nigerian Govt. is just gonna let them
walk after all the deaths and sorrow they brought on school kids...
Justice is indeed blind.

Wanta negotiate but forgot the children you torched

I betcha talkin’ ‘bout how ta regain yo freedom,

I betcha forgot the scores of times you played God,

Tossing bombs and pumping slugs all up the north;

Wasting gobs of young dreams in the name of religion,

Now you feel ya’ll just gon’ turn around and spill yo

Guts and make demands? But justice is a loaded gun

On a hair trigger and its cartridge is full of lethal slugs.

The lives you destroyed rise to judge you n’ yo cohorts.

A million wasted dreams signed your eternal damnation.

The only pardon you truly deserve is hell’s own option.

Ya’ll aint gatto make demands why don’t you just pop off.

We will never forget how they died the death of a dog.

We will never forget the fatal aftermath of Postikum.

We will never forget that the earth sucked up their blood

Because you strewn their cadavers in the streets to rot.

We will never forget the camp where ya’ll tripped a bomb,

Because even when they was displaced it wasn’t enough

Until they was wasted and their names wiped off this world;

We will never forget the abductions and forced wedlock.

We will never forget the unborn burnt alive in the womb

Because you fools weren’t man enough to restrain your lust.

We will never forget the schools turned factory for bombs

We will never forgive nor forget until justice has run its course.

You will get what you so richly deserve.

Hear me Boko Haram: judgment is served.

Akpan

Tightrope

For the Chibok Girls

Here I sit in my room alone but alone,

Tossed in mixed-up emotion’s throes,

Dying to live where your pain lives;

Breathless in anticipation of the impact

I want to hurt your hurt bring you release,

Trap the sunshine in a cup revamp your spark.

Tho I can’t read the scars on the skin of your heart

I’ll give anything for five minutes to play your part.

I wish I could trade an exhale for a million sighs;

Heave the tug of your burden shoulder high

Until I hear myself scream, ‘please, no more!’

Yet this much is true, no one can erase your worth.

Akpan

When We Bleed

If I needed someone

Would you be my redemption?

If I needed 100% and nothing less

Would you offer the best of yourself;

Spooling till there’s nothing left to give?

And would you not do it free and easy

Would you bleed when we bleed to death?

Would you freeze the Atlantic to erase the threat?

Before terror brings a nation of millions to her knees?

Won’t you help us?

While there’s still an “us” breathing oxygen?

Won’t you help us?

If I came crashing down,

Would you catch me before I hit the ground?

If I called to you on a clarion,

Would the answer in the wind convey the nostrum?

Would you walk with me thro a landmine?

Can I trust you with my heart in my darkest night?

Won’t you help us?

Won’t you help us?

Won’t you help us?

Won’t you help us?

Akpan

IntShoWriMo 2015: Day 7: Survival is a Business of the Mind

IntShoWriMo 2015: Day 7 Prompts:

Marian Bartsch and Joey Costagli meet on his first day at work. One of them had a rough childhood. Write their story. — CreativeWritingPrompts.Com

Word Count: 2k+

Akpan

T-Concubine

BINTA IBRAHIM
16 year old multiple rape victim with an unidentified child she rescued.

To the 214 rescued pregnant girls so-called “Terrorist’ Concubines.”

Warning to the Reader: Here there be Foul Language.

It's not my fault that I am the way that I am.

So don't judge me if you ain't been up the shit creek I had to paddle.

My sister, I ain't reserve no respect for none of ya'll that don't understand

I suggest you stand back and watch me wriggle thru the eye of this needle.

It's not my fault that I seek solace in your embrace;

That I look up and out and into your face dying for a touch of grace.

Just that your stigma keeps trespassing with the affairs of your mouth.

But I'm here to stay brother, deal with it or haul it down south.

It's not my fault misery selected me over you.

If I did bust that joint has it not crossed your mind ama thrive on your attitude?

When ya'll was all wrapped up in the warmth of fam., I was stolen and abused

You just like them to downtalk but I stand strong and refuse to be reduced.

It's not my fault that those mad dogs threw themselves at me;

So how come ya'll hating on me like I was some colossal freak?

Ya'll should be throwing a party, celebrating the fact that I'm free.

But I am not your expectation and I will survive and bring some style into it.

It's not my fault that I am the way that I am.

It's not my fault that I seek solace in your embrace.

It's not my fault that misery selected me over your brass

So am I asking too much cause I expect some respect for my pain?

Akpan

200

For the 200+ kidnapped Chibok girls.
And it's my birthday, today!

I ain't in a grave. I don't die.

And I know that what I know about myself eats you up inside.

It's simple logic yet, you can't visualize why I multiply

Beyond the grave. My balls is thicker than my waistline

And the last article of me you erase is this light of mine.

I ain't in the grave. I don't die.

Cause I know there's a spot in this universe only I can fill.

Purpose by design feeds my yenning for home.

My faith is so firm the fear of death don't frighten me.

And can't no incendiary bomb penetrate the walls of my hope.

I ain't in that grave. I don't die.

Everyday I rise above the drama you keep bringing;

Every pain I overcome boosts me up to brave the bleeding;

Every sunrise witnessed is good reason to keep breathing;

Every sunset I survive invites me to keep believing.

I ain't in no grave. I don't die.

Tell Mama, the grave cannot hold down your daughter's life,

Tell Papa, I still believe that one day, ama touch the sky,

Tell Nigeria, this lil’ light still got one more shine,

Tell the world, it's my metamorphosis, ama bust out a sweet butterfly.

But above all, tell everybody: Don't give up the fight;

I multiply beyond the grave. I don't die.

Akpan

Soulja Story

A soulja battling Boko Haram who is also fighting his personal
demons writes his daughter about his personal struggles.

Dear Daughter,

This is not Father.

Tell you what; this war's been one tough nut to crack;

If we fight the enemy we shall hit our brothers.

There's no telling who got dragged into this joint;

Or who got paid to settle for a human bomb.

I've had nightmares where I woke up totally drenched;

Victory has never before tethered on a more slippery edge.

Who willingly yields up a daughter?

Then turns around and cries, Murder! Murder!

Who can spot the color of truth, color of a lie?

Who discerns a foe just by looking 'em in the eye?

Sometimes, I feel this is a struggle in vain.

I assume it sounds lame and probably is insane.

But can I be positive I ain't sticking out my neck for a traitor?

Can I state with certainty there ain’t secret mass burial sites?

They wear our faces and speak our tongue.

They sniff out the nitty-gritty of our minds.

If I sound a bit off the wall maybe I am.

But when we get down to brass tacks it’s Nigerians offing Nigerians.

Things are never what they seem behind enemy lines,

In this place I wage war and for same I lay down my life.

Dear Daughter,

This is Father.

Akpan

7 Day Theory

The earth was created in six days. Nigeria's war against
 terrorism entered its sixth year in 2015. It ends NOW.
2016 is our 7th day and there we will find our rest. It starts NOW.

There’s so much to live for why can’t we start living it now?

Straddle love and courage and faith; turn again our captivity;

Prepare a way and haul in peace like a river that abounds.

This is the year we initiate our miracle metamorphosis.

Lethal explosions have ripped us till we despaired for hope,

The three-fold cord of unity’s been strained to snapping point.

These six odd years we’ve been coerced to walk a tightrope,

Still we rise to every challenge and keep on believing in love.

For six years, we put our backs to the grind;

We sang of freedom and put our hopes on the line.

We got just one more ‘day’ then we rest from this tragedy,

And set the tone for our very own seven-day theory.

Akpan

Cellphone Conversation

This is a fictional phone conversation with the maniac Shekau She-Cow, written in verse. Let’s pretend the evil genius speaks any vocabularies besides Bang-Bang! Boom-Boom! His words are in BOLD type.

Am I speaking with She-Cow?

This is Shekau...

Alhaji Abubakar Shekau

Whatever, Shay COW.

So, what's all the rage?

I said this time and again;

My mission is to cut ‘Western’ culture off this nation.

Isn't that why you're on the internet... to spread the message?

Well, yeah, I needed a medium of expression...

And a ‘Western’ medium seemed most appropriate?

That about sums it up.

That's the kind of attitude that gets people bombed.

Is that a threat?

Because I missed the part where I get scared.

I just want to tell my side of the story and be heard...

Well She-Cow, your side of the story sucks...

I blow up school kids for a holy cause...

Is that a synonym for ‘masochistic lunatic?’

You wouldn't know a thing about my cause

So I suggest you don't insult.

Are we discussing that Devil Theory which warps minds, makes

Men strap explosives all around their waists and make

Waste of everything that breathes within a 10-block radius?

My motives are strictly religious...

Sheez, you got it all sorted out, genius.

Why don’t you tell that to the dead school kids.

You're so full of shit...

Or maybe, your time is up...

This war will not be over until I've bombed you all...

Is that the stink of your corpse I smell as it rots?

That's all empty talk. And you know it.

It's over. Can you not feel...

Ha! Ha! I don't see your armed forces

Putting one dent in my offensive.

It's got nothing to do with sophisticated weapons;

We won because your toys couldn't split a great nation.

How much longer, do you reckon, would that remain reality...?

Listen hard. Don’t you hear the exploding silence of your bombs?

You should feel damn lucky you live down south....

And you really ought to make your last moments on earth count,

Start putting what's left of your household in order, militarized tout.

Because we will hunt you like vermin and we will stamp you out.

You got big mouth...

You’re living on borrowed time, traitor. I'm out.

Akpan

A Mission Falsely Called 'Impossible'

We have stealthily achieved our Midas years,

We, trigger of a black revolution,

Clamber up the plains of a tumultuous pyramid

To find the base for a new resolution.

There were times, and those were tough times,

When we underestimated the impossible.

Standing in this place, we can say with courage, “we rise!”

For we’re still one nation on a mission falsely called ‘impossible.’

Akpan

Down in History

You may take all the time you want

Find yourself a rattan and pull it to the front.

Set yourself up and hear me spin my metaphors.

Know, beyond doubt’s shadow that the least of these

Are true acts of courage that will go down in history.

Give me your hand, let me walk you thro corridors

Of wrenching pain refined by the fires of valor.

Listen closely as I whisper oracles of a future

Untouched by fear, of a people toppling boundaries.

And acknowledge that these must go down in history.

A nation of millions seeks new beginnings,

Marching in time to a democratic Valhalla.

Unity binds us up and defines our entities

And we, like unfolding promises take a stand.

Bet you see distinctly, why this is going down in history.

For half a century, this family chose to hang on.

Plowing the turbulence and staying on course,

We found a voice of our own in an unsettling world.

It takes a hero’s heart to take risks and succeed,

And now, you know why these events must go down in history!

Akpan

Stifled Maelstrom

The past tears came upon a nightmare scream,

As horrific as a scar-face crime scene.

Some over-exposed it like a strip of film

And flung mud on fabrics of a great dream.

Now a modern phoenix rises from its ashes,

Pounces on Zephyr to glimpse fantasies,

Soon-to-be tapestry of our realities.

Galleries of fabled feats mark our bush track:

Fallen legends and rising heroes,

Pungent pointers to a stifled maelstrom.

Akpan

Daring the Storms

Kites of hope are daring the storms,

Lovin’ feelin’ is catching like a virus.

Ships of promises drop anchor on our shores

Doubtless, bringing sheaves of our father’s toil.

Chains of heroics link our ancestry knot to knot

Shattering clouds of ill that blurs our vision.

We press in the strides of our marathon,

Clogging the gap with faith that pelts like rock.

We are a people that will march on.

A nation that will thrive with passion.

Akpan

Vineyard

When I shout, 'Nigeria!'

I am not government-praising.

When I say, we have arrived,

It’s got nothing to do with politricks.

When I state how we survived,

I am talking the individual.

It is never about the government.

The people are a nation’s vineyard,

The greatest constitutions are unwritten.

Like the code syncing rhythms of our heartbeats,

Or the affection that unites a family.

We, the people, are the constitution.

We are the cause for celebration.

Akpan