Jaachi Writes

'Happy birthday...anyway' 'may the memories fade away' 'I have no more need for hay' Happy birthday...anyway' Fingers trembling on guitar chords Yes, I compose songs Through tad toils my feet has kissed many soils From which gained a thousand spoils Still my heart boils On this endless journey of mine Gold I found, not silver All rot pearls I couldn't love But no! I went on You moved on! Just like rainfall in the desert Just like sunshine in the groove Just like food in famine Just like Hadassah to the Jews I found you Out of the purple I saw blues Crystal clear eyes that burst my boils Giving me a relief not meant for boys My feet has kissed many soils In search for love... Still my heart boils. Fine fingered fellow, you were your finger on the guitar chords ...like mine you passed me the stethoscope whilst I rap to your heartbeat drinking in your smile like new palmwine... And the words that from your lips dripped became my favourite song -  You... wer

They told us that Nigerians are the worst of Africa, so we told them our own stories. -  Hatfield, Pretoria, 30 th  of November 2017 Today it’s Libya, it was xenophobia and death for 26 Nigerian women who attempted to cross the ocean, now buried in Italy. There is only anger and hate for this black nation, we have given Africa the bad name it bears. That’s how the news reports it; the story told by the world and Africans have become little more than inanimate objects on news headlines. There is no voice to show that in Africa and indeed Nigeria still lies humanity, compassion, a desperate desire to thrive like any other. This is why thirty young Nigerians have dedicated their waking hours to crafting stories that would bring you closer to home. If this happens in ripples, if more Africans find one voice and a single heart, then the black man can be remade, capturing the heart of this fearful earth. The stories are simple, they share with you moments and glimpses into hearts not much di

Introduction :  There has been a growing concern among young creatives in Africa regarding lack of recognition of their poetic creativity by the older generation of poets and writers. While this concern is genuine, there is also a concern among older generations regarding the quality of poetic works coming from a generation of writers whose schooling has been attributed to the proliferation of social media writing. There is a gap between the class of Soyinka, Achebe, Clark, etc. and the current generation. Interestingly too, even among contemporary writers, there are divergent opinions on what constitutes modern or contemporary African poetry. While there are no distinct ideological schools, it is pertinent to say that there are distinct styles of poetry that are attracting international recognition among African young creatives. It is difficult to define poetry based on forms or themes. Each poetic movement has always been a response to society, literary expectations or the role of th

Looking at the stars twinkle around the moonlit sky Thinking of you as time crawl by Leaving our love in the scale of fate Sitting here, on grasses wet, alone I wait From dusk to dawn,  the sky chameleons  the many shades of doubts  residing in my heart. Day dreaming about how amazing our first time would be I would sigh... Leaving our love in the scale of fate Sitting here, on grasses wet, alone I wait Here, I am There, you are Images of your face from your Social page  still fill the air in my lungs giving me breath and feeding my hope... Leaving our love in the scale of fate Sitting here, on grasses wet, alone I wait I close my eyes,  to ease my mind and allow the wind to swish by I, lost in the reverie of future us... Between my love and I is only time and a million miles... Leaving our love in the scale of fate Sitting here, on grasses wet, alone I wait Sweetness,  I will wait for you  because honestly I don't want anyone else. Leaving our love in the scale of fate Sitting her

My mum taught me how to say  'I Love You”  through the things that I do. I didn't understand how the things I do could stand in for my voice. 'I want you to look in the mirror' Mum would say... I will steady my tiny boy legs before the mirror and stare at my bare chest and stifle a chuckle; my ears appeared funny. 'Look at yourself' Mum's voice whispered softly behind my large ears. I will look at the reflection of myself and chuckle at my funny ears... 'This is it, son... when you laugh at yourself you ridicule the poor and helpless  in the streets' She points at the scar on my knee. 'I want you to see every scar,  every wrinkle,  every grey hair as a badge of honour.' 'I want you to see in your reflection a sick man and behind you a nurse, mother, medicine;  the medicine you need to heal our shared pain.  I want you to think back to the times  you were hungry and there was no food to eat. How I brought your toothless mouth to nipples an

I'm locked up in my favourite nook - The room behind my mental hideout... Writing a poem titled truth as I pass past my past... Pen in climax Poem in climax... This poem, it speaks of frozen seas where ships are trapped like a sheep in the gallows of hate. It speaks of barren mothers  giving birth to still adults  who are taken by the storm of hate. This poem, it speaks of no new thing but the ugly sting of racial discrimination. It sings like a little kid boy, the innocent love of lust, to the little kid girl whose hair stand erect - tall -  aroused like the flicker  of golden butterflies in her baby heart. But his guitar as old my grandpa issues throaty tunes of ruins, ruins and more ruins. Yet I wonder why will one whisper laughter in such moody mood? Even the sands are whiter than baby tooth. This poem, it speaks of endless hope it speaks of hopeless end, of time, sluggish time  Time undefined neither by seasons swift nor seasonings sweet. This poem, it speaks of heroes gone wh

Sometimes all we need, after a stressful sun tanning day, to feel refreshed are nice words or just one honest compliment. Why We Should Compliment More Compliments encourage others who are struggling: A compliment can truly be all that stands between someone being successful and giving up. Stand in that gap and offer an encouraging word. Compliments strengthen (and soften) relationships:  Compliments convey respect.  Compliments can also serve to melt the ice between you and an antagonist: As I’ll discuss below, offering a compliment requires a bit of humility and a lot of honesty, and it also tells the receiver that even if you don’t like anything else about them, you can at least admit to admiring that one quality.  Compliments charm others and increase our circle of influence: People like surrounding themselves with those who make them feel good, and nothing makes a person feel better about themselves than a thoughtful compliment. If you want to make new friends or increase your inf

Tonight, as I lay here in this darkened room, My body helpless as desire seems to consume.  My bed so lonely without you laying here next to me,  As steaming hot passion burns uncontrollably free.  As inside my heart, flaming desires are definitely sprung.  My lips are moistened, with my feverish tongue,  I begin to moan, but try hard to keep it hush.  My breast bare, as the night chill gives them a rush,  To delicate places, my fingers slowly come to a rest.  Tenderly, my fingers dribble down my bare breast,  I circle my nipple,  as a chill flows through,  As sweat begins to build,  upon my body so well,  Inside of me a passion burns,  so deep with thoughts of you.  I linger on to places,  that even more feelings can dwell.  As my fingers dip into the deeper depths of me.  Down to my stomach,  my fingers seem to glide,  Down to that spot,  where my passion seems to hide.  A hot burning desire,  I feel the flames flowing so free,  As I want with excitement,  So wet and flaming the powe