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

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

Postikum

I'm just a face in the crowd.

But I see friendships that might have been;

Smiles that would’ve smoothed out the crease on my brow.

I ease my mind into fickle wishful thinking

And let it wander where human dignity still holds a charm.

And right there, at the center of all radiance is us;

Just us two, bragging and shoving and fearing no harm.

Then reality crashes in like foam-tipped breakers on the shore;

I hear your screams rise from within a fiery grave.

I hear you yell out my name but I am M.I.A.

I see you grope with burning rage for aid that never came;

I feel the deathly heat as your lungs burst, from a distant place.

The terror gnaws at my heart and threatens to rip it out.

You thought I had your back but I'm the one who let you down.

You thrust out charred limbs and clawed at the empty air

What I had to do was grab your hand but I was not there.

I see dead people strewn like waste disposed of at a landfill;

I see young destinies six feet deep in a grave of dreams.

So I scribbled a line to you in that place I cannot yet come,

A monument of words flung up through the voice of one.

I'm just a face in the crowd.

If I’m dead to you it’s because you’re out cold;

If you’re dead to me I should hang with Shekau

How I remember you molds how my story unfolds.

Akpan