Friday, October 26, 2012

The Poor

This poem is dedicated to the hopless paupers living in endless penury and tyranny of their counterparts.

Composed: Thu 25 Oct. At 11:50 AM

I see him with sunken eyes
Sunk in a flowing ocean of desperation
Befriending frustration and agony
Exposed in between thunder and lightning,
Brooding over the next hour's meal.

 Living in a dark deadly dungeon
Contained therein blood-suckers
With stinging and poisonous beasts
Stinging and sucking through his veins;
Trippled tribulations like a cripple tripping and falling with no foothold,
Like a ripple in water, uncertain,
Going no further on its path
Like Mars revolving on its axis,
I see the poor exiles from his burrow
After digging it for ages, then the tyrant comes and eject him at once, swapping him for endless jungles
I see the poor with broken bedrock, yearning for a cloth to cover his nude,
Behind his defeat by the vicious right-winger;

I see him, deprived of the pen and ink, then told of paper being hazardous to his afflicted lenses.
Placing anatomy in anachronistic form

He lays the binding blocks of pyramid,
But another comes and sit on the pinnacle
The founder below, the settler on top,
Oh! The poor, when will you be freed?

Sunday, October 7, 2012

Congratulatory Poem (for Umar Sa'I'd T/Wada)

Umar Sa'idu Tudun wada is the successor of late Umar Dutse Mohd, the General Manager of Freedom Radio, Kano. He was installed few days after Dutse's departure. This poem was composed by the advice of Kabiru Musa Jammaje as the case of the other poem I composed on the death of Dutse, Condolence, which is an elegy discribing the moral qualities he possessed and how his loss would be in his post-era. I have hinted through this itroduction so that the reader will find the inseparable link between the two related poems namely: CONDOLENCE and CONGRATULATORY POEM. May his soul rest in peace. The poem reads thus:


I know not how I should dictate
My pleasure in this long awaited day;
Waiting in suspense of its approach.
I know not how I could say
My triumph in seeing this day.

Many days have gone in passion and hope,
But this one seems as better as before.
Promotion denotes expertise and proficiency,
To a new world better than the old.
It is like being out of bondage;
And a recovery from the previous pains.

It is being in the progressive life,
The opposite being retrogressive one.
Oh! You present crew;
Wake up from your deep sleep
And imitate what you colleague fought
For becoming who he is now.

The sun and the moon today merge,
Jubilating friendly with smile.
The stars have nothing but to follow;
Cheering and rejoicing without dislike.

The most lovable post is the progressive one,
Never walking slowly like a chameleon or going back.
So your post be as faster as wind,
That never refers back to what she destroyed.

There are such devils who your post despise,
Ignore them and pray day and night.
For your weapons are Almighty's ones.
Let them perish by your sophisticated arms.

UST, my advice is that:
Footsteps of DM you follow,
Tolerant, humble and sincere man,
Genius and capable he proved.
Tirelessly all these should be.
Till death does what she does.

Never let any obstacle win over you,
Smash them and let them be history.
For the crew: let you all co-operate,
Let the obedience and sincerity be your friends.

Lastly, to you UST I pray,
Faithfully and peacefully you serve
The Freedom Radio and your Lord.
Until blissful promotion is blessed,
In your grave and in paradise.
Now victorious you are!

Saturday, October 6, 2012

Silent Love

6th August, 2008

What is our bond, 
Friendship or love? 
If it's one, then the type;
Verbally or on face. 

Silent love shoulb be silenced

For we're lost
In the black bush of
Blame and stray.

Silent love should be silenced

We better tell
Our hidden views
Or we lose out 
All ourselves.

Silent love should be silenced

Is it matrimonial, 
Platonic or agape?
Say it or we lose 
Ourselves in life.

Silent love should be silenced

If my request is annoying,
Disregarded or avoided, 
Then I must silence the silent love.



Let me invite you
To my good and beautiful view.
For myself and for you,
To live my life with you.

If it is fine, say yes,
To my request not something else.
For we'll reach our alliance
In the real matrimonial means.

I say my love for you,
Filled the stomach reaching the gullet;
Passing the mouth to vomit;
Telling the world I and you.

The love I do for you,
Is like the love which you do
To your mum or I do
More than her in view.

Now I will not fear
In saying what I care.
Because I love you my dear,
And I invite you in cheer.

Friday, October 5, 2012

CONDOLENCE (an elegy to Umar Dutse Mohd)

Oh death! You come and go,
Like taking away the electric light.
As life is tasted, you are tasted.
Death, you are a natural creature.
Death, you are an inevitable affair.
You snatch souls unawares.
We live and die, the end is you.

The river in my eyes flooded
To extinguish the fire blazing on my face
Whose cause was the death of my patron.
Alas! The flooding river can no more
Kill that flaming fire
Killing it is Almighty's will.

Gone you are, oh! My mentor
To return-never eternal abode.
Gone you are, to the real life;
Gone you are, to the possible world.
Now, help I can't but to pray
To your amicable and dedicated soul.

Your good works have really won
The trial and the result of your worldly stay.
Patient, tolerant, generous, and lenient you were.
Philanthropist and above all trustworthy,
Oh! My counsellor, fantastic encounter with your Lord I wish.
And all your errors be wiped,
Then forgiven by the Lord of the universe.

In everlasting peace and blissful garden shall you be.
With your wife, children, relatives and all.
Your good deeds would ever be recalled.
Now, the fire burning my face is dead.
By these comforting verses:
That every man shall be dead:

"Whosoever is on earth will perish
And the face of your Lord full of majesty
And honour forever remains, and:
Everyone shall taste death
Then be rewarded on what he did."
And everyone would reap what he sown.
May your good acts be rewarded for you.
May Umar's soul be in peaceful peace.

Beware of Campus Marauders

20th May, 2008

May I not abandon this?
After being attested thrice.
Reasoning I shall make on
Yearning to be free from marauder.
A new way hasn't been yet
Mentioned to lovers and foes.

Alas! Confidential it remains.
Melancholic it would be,
In fact, when exposed.
New way I must conceal,
Unless such things are shunned.

Unsteady on my feet I stand
Moveless backward and forward.
Adamant is my mind till
Rough guys are barred.

Hush! My regard is that:
Unique you should be,
Zeal now you add.
Abysmal guys are more;
In the campus, you know?
Finally to you I appeal,
Anti-serious students you leave!

Serious minds you link,
Anyone not one.
Never mind those parasites,
Infamous they are.

In bizzare you were,
Last minute, imagine
In the campus you joined!
Your truly pal is he who
All facts he says,
Safe-guard yourself for life.

Static Mind

17th May, 2008

You think like a kid
As you think of that,
You know my name
But not my mind.

With you or not
I would live in peace
In reverse to your thought
That we are pals,
I am not possessed.

Sometimes in the past
I would lull my friends;
Apologising in their sight
To become cordial afresh.

As time goes on,
I  totally transformed
Into enormous wisdom lake,
And experience increased.

If you could have seen my mind,
You wouldn't think of that,
But let it be by-gone
That repeating it shan't.

From within my mind
I remain what I am
For I would never change
Like day and night.

Either you take me as one
Or leave me like that.
Nothing can change my mind
Except the All-wise.

Thursday, October 4, 2012

The Prolific Writer

13th May, 2008

(For the then Dr. Aliyu Kamal)

A prolific writer, your praise I sing.
A prominant poet I do greet,
To a literary scholar is my poem.
Linguist, stylist, novelist in title.
Critic, ommiting for this I won't

Traditionalist, modern you combine.
To be precise, religious I add.
You do more than my best, teacher.
In Nigeria, you are a writer.

In the domain you are an expert
Of the experts, you are vividly
The winner of the 2005 Cheveron/ANA prize.
"The Freshman" was the miraculous champion.

"Professorship you deserve..." I quote.
Proud of you I say is a must
Upon Nigerians in both the South and the North.
For your works are good in fact.
Your likes we need and hope.
I respect you my favourite writer.




Praise be to you,
Glories also are yours
You made my verse hurting
And my pen a sword
That stabs ladies's flesh.

Accuse me thus, suspicious you be.
My intention yet was right.
Accuse me not, nor slander on me.
For my tongue is sour, bitter and sweet,

Your abode I overwhelmed.
Your threat shall never pay,
Nor win the heart that's changed.
Alteration is welcomed as yours.
As it's much happier and tension-less.

Brief stay of yours has bored.
So much so that pray I do
On your mortality and ruin.
Onto you your scorn will turn.
Unknown you'll be as before.

If I could write the beauty of my brain,
Would you say: "This poet means 'I'.

Nor you or your like care I do,
Amvibalent my words would ever be!
Your whisky complaints aroused the writer's rage
"Scheming boy, love in eyes, hatred in mind.

"Asses are asses except if alter is in need."
Nature per se is a changing course.
Your change I need to the end.
I like it as a stationary chance.

The Bitter Truth: Muslims Reaction

Huzaifa Sani Ilyas

13 September, 2012

Nobody wouldn't react when his religion is
insulted or blasphemed unless he couldn't have
any means or lay his hands on an object that can
work as a weapon to unleash on reaction to the
provocative action except a person who doesn't
have good faith or has a weaker belief. People
may be silent when they are insulted or abused
personally, politically, culturally, economically,
socially, etc. You can even abuse a person's
mother or father or provoke him on any social
issue and he may turn a blind ear towards you.
But religiously, it is hard to find any silence
especially when it comes to blasphemy against
the religiously connected issues. It appeared
that most of the blasphemy in this world are
either on the prophet of Islam or the Islam per
se. Fortunately, this is where the Muslims draw
the line because they can undoubtedly sacrifice
their lives to defend their prophet's dignity to
the extent that they can even sacrifice their
parents and property on this matter .
Over the years, Muslims and Islam have
suffered mockery, they have been mimicked in
different forms, causing them pains in their
hearts by insulting their beloved prophet, their
sacred book, and their most respected,
cherished, admired apostle, who is loved by
every true Muslim in the world, but they only
ended up with the pain in their hearts because no
proper actions were taken. I wonder, what does
it benefit a person from to cast a blasphemic
image or abuse another person's religion or
sacred persons! I'm a Muslim, and in our
religion, we are warned not to abuse or insult
any of those who disbelieved in our religion much
less they insult our God unknowingly, furiously
and antagonistically. So, all this, is an indication
for peaceful co-existence with mutual respect
to one another and with respect to all the
different Faiths that Islam teaches... I never
heard or watched anything such as blasphemy on
any religion by a Muslim. And I have never seen
any Muslim doing such to Jesus [Isa] (P.B.H). In
truth, in our religion, anybody who doesn't
believe in Jesus (P.B.H) is not a Muslim at all.
Because belief in Jesus denotes one of the
articles of Islamic faith.
Anybody considers his religion as pure, sacred
and true, however, this cannot be an exception
to Islam. So, it is hurting, agonising, and
lugubrious for a Christian to hear a Muslim
abusing the Bible, or Mathew, or Luke, or John,
etc. Likewise it is painful for a Muslim to hear a
Christian abusing the Quran, or Muhammad
(P.B.U.H) or his companions. These may escalate
violence and instigate people to take arms and
to kill because religion is powerful and has a positive indivisible
impact on people's minds as it makes a person to
become capable of doing everything because of
it even if the thing seems physically and mentally
I don't know why I have watched this so-called
dubbed-filmed movie: 'Innocence of Muslims' by a Californian or Israel Jew (?) . It is highly
intolerable to watch. The insults, the
downgrading nature in it, and the words pronounced are
really stupendous that you wouldn't like to hear
them afresh for the rest of your life. The
producers, the actors, and the stakeholders are so
silly and horrible to have produced this movie.
Why did they have to produce such regrettable
action that can bring this world to a terrible war. And this shows that these people do not
want peace, what they need is only the opposite.
No peace can ever be maintained in the world
provided such heinous act continue. This film may cause
unprecedented holocaust as it portrays unusual
things that can never be tolerated. Many cartoons have been
drawn mimicking our prophet, many books have
been written, many lies have been told, but all
this, would lead nowhere but to a dangerously
huge path. I reiterate, this is not a path that will
lead to a good destination, rather, it is a cul-de-
Furthermore, somebody signed up on Twitter
with the name of our beloved prophet showing a
terribly horrible drawn picture referring to him,
and depicting him as the owner of the account
with gloomy, insulting status. 'Subhanallah'!
What is this all about? Also, for those who use
2go mobile applications, they would know a room
called 'Faith' in which nothing is posted except
insults on our prophet. And unfortunately, most
of whom are Christians. They use innumerable
words that they cannot even call their enemies
with, words that they wouldn't love to hear
someone mistakenly calling their parents,
relatives or friends. I have seen many pictures
belittling the Holy Quran, I have seen one with a
woman's feet stamping over the unfolded Quran.
God will surely punish the devil.
And for Muslims who show out such pictures, I
beg them to stop spreading such pictures and
such videos. Let' live a world where we will
respect one another's religion so as to live in
harmony, progress and understanding. So,
whether the film is dubbed or not, it is not
worth releasing except there is hidden agenda... It is now mandatory upon the American and the Israeli governments to bring these miscreants to book. And to try with utmost effort to prevent the recurrence of such films. It is the inaction of American government to provide a good, objective and credible censorship Act on American film-producing that led what is seen now as the murder of the American ambassador in Benghazi.
May God guide us to the right path!

A Delicious Dish

Composed: 26th Sep, 2012

A wonderful cook,
With a yummy dish,
Handily prepared.
In the blink of an eye.
Never believed the yarn,
Until when I've munched
With salivary ravenous mouth
And the haste of a hungry hyena.
Habitual visit I'd pay
To this perpetual eatery.
And enviously yearning
My intended to build such.
But more not less,
If hers were a similitude
To this ably expert cook,
Then there is a crash!
A palatable diet I need,
That my wife can handle,
A better appetizing dish,
Than the one I ruminated.

Tuesday, July 31, 2012


I have run!
Never to come back
Into the scornful camp
Which I never see
A hideous camp like.

Deceiving innocent mind.
Love in eyes,
Hatred in mind.
Ironic is the line.
Of the 16th century poet:
"Young men's love then lies
Not truly in their hearts
But in their eyes."
Young ladies' love lies
Into their eyes not in mind!

One takes one a dull
About the hidden plot
Or the inner thought?
Is she psychopath
Or antithesis of that?

Adieu for now!
Oh! My deceiving friend.
The tiger that clothes
In an ewe-like skin;
I'm vigilant for your disguise.

I ran away,
The way a rabbit
Runs into the lurking hole.
That knows its death comes
When by seeing a marauding wolf.

Now safety met me per se.
I would rather die
Than to go back
Where the deception lies,
And again I say bye!

MY RELIGION (a poem)

Some believe fully in you,
Others deny you more,
As illusion and tyranny,
Many embrace you more
As saviour of humanity
From the crises of modernity.

Could I be wrong or right?
What could be worse than
Denying your true self?
What could be more abysmal than
Disregarding your worth.

Without you, no more peace nor mercy,
Nor affability, secirity or affection.

Truly, without you, astray all we'll be,
The symbol of equity you stand,
Prosperity, blessings you all bring.

I wonder why they discard you,
Or are their eyes blindfolded to veracity,
Or, their eardrums barred to the truth,
Or may be undesirable whims shut their hearts?

I can't say but either of those fiends.
Life beauty is seen in you,
Ideal society, I understand, is you.
Oh my champion you act vigorously,
The stationary and dynamic role.

Actually you guide folks:
Jinns and men you glow,
Peace, love, and purity you dispense.
Aversion, violence and terrorism you excoriate,
Hush! You are but peaceful peace.
Your antithesis are other things.

Embracing you is a garden field,
Rejecting you is nothing but catastrophic burning hell.

THE OLD WAY (a poem)

The old way is now back,
Like a long time missing beloved.
The new way is deformed
By denying its vital chore.

The old way has just
Repented and reformed,
Saying: "by-gone is by-gone."
And seeking my hand in vow.

The new way now decided
To give its light to bastards,
Whose light already faded;
And whose aim is orgasm.

The old way is more
Beautiful, erudite and charming;
Knowledgeable, cultured and refined.
Its beauty, wow! Till you sight.

Blurring is the new path,
As its light faded for rogues.
And now ruining to death.
By those rascals and junks.

Oh! My old way, be calm.
Your apology is welcomed.
I'll renew you from ruin,
And rename you to new.

A NEW WAY (a poem)

Two years in love but to no avail,
As though in love with corpse in morgue.
No accord nor approval or appease,
Leaving me on the zenith of torture.

Trouble I was in those years,
For the love of the ulterior maiden.
Pondered, puzzled, insecure I became;
Shrinkage I shrunk like a frail old bat.

Brain turmoil, traumatic travails and apathy
In me on every visit she paid to my mind.
Poor grades like E for "rake" then obstacles.
Were only the scores I earned.

Lectures mine mostly I denied,
But hers covertly I proffered.
Jeers, scorns, sarcasms and all feminine jargons;
Were (only) her palatable comments on me.

Coun not sleepless nights I bore,
That in vain and irksome they were.
But now all pains I've recovered
From the catastrophe to prestigious pleasure.

Gigantic lesson I have learnt,
Pity or sympathy she lacks.
Mine thought now is no more on her,
Mobile I'm like unchained captive.

Oh! Yesterday and the day before yesterday,
Praises onto you for the vacuity you left.
In my heart new "path" now I have
That brightens and gladdens my soul.

Now free I'm from pains and woes
That in eternal joy I shall sustain!
For my new found free-way is filled with light,
That glitters like a diamond watch.


Oh! Delicate petal so attractive you're my energiser.
In poems and rhymes you deserve more than a stanza.

Innocent, slender, beautiful and extravaganza.
Your love is my cure from influenza.

For you my heart flusters and wanders,
What shoud I be without you, my heart ponders.

Your scent spreads the world around,
Your smiles set me on a merry-go-round.

You're in my mind from morning till dawn.
Your presence makes me feel like a king and crown.

Oh! Babe, let's spend this life as a leisure.
Morrow, we spend the life of eternity in joy and pleasure.

Oh! Babe, I'm on my knees asking you for a merger.
Because my love for you can't have a measure.

Sunday, July 29, 2012


Fancy me his life,
He lives and dies,
But returning in vain.
He hates religious
Loving sacrilegious.

When we talk of moral
Then he talks of vices,
When we talk of sanity,
He then talks of vanity,
Amoral indeed he is.

When talking of rascality,
He hails and cheers,
Enjoying the scenery.
But the reverse is true
When talking on religion.

Repent on your acts
For you may attain mercy,
Pardon and delightful access
To where everyone needs;
Please, change for good!


I was alone
On my own.
Near the ship
Wanting to sleep

My dirty feet
Near some meat
On my side's plate
With food I hate.

Juice by my side
Dropped in a toad.
I'm looking the best
Food for my quest.

This eat I can't,
For it is a filth
And also a guilt,
For I fear death.


I was astray
At the dark night
Past midnight.
Deserted were all,
I was left alone.
On that black night.
I searched all around,
But none to be found.
It was a cold night.
No where to go
As a stranger
No where I knew.
No guards nor drivers or riders,
But only the barking of nocturnal dogs.
The venue was locked.
Knocking wearily but in vain.
Palpitation and worry covered me.
My phone was deaf,
Worthless as a pulp.
As its soul perished.
I passed on streets and shrubs.
I was chased by a SATANIC dog!
Merciless, callous and troublesome.
Then my running increased,
For phobia of hydrophobia, not for death.
I was rescued by a herdsman
Who came out in search of bulls.
Took me to his abode I felt safe.
Full of mosquitoes and mice,
Together there we slept.
At dawn I rose;
To the mosque we went first.
Having our prayer said.
To my dwelling I reached.
Praise be to Almighty God,
And thanks to the cattleman.

Saturday, July 28, 2012


My uncle was an international business tycoon. He imported commodities that he distributed to his business colleagues across the country. Whenever he would travel, he would entrust me to act as his vicegerent, or rather, an interim householder; and to take care of everything that went on in his house, especially commuting children to schools and running some errands.
With all this invaluable trust my uncle had for me; I was very notorious. Nobody had such trust in me, including my parent. Nobody cared about me in all that I did, and I cared for nobody. Thence, I was engaged in many vices in which I became addicted to smoking and taking narcotics. I wasn't brought up by my parents. This was because my father had been in Mexico together with my mother working for a private company. They would only come back on vacation at the end of the year. All my three siblings were born there, but were taken back to my mother land after being suckled for a period of two consecutive years as ordained in the Noble Qur'an that: " Mothers shall suckle their newborn babies biennially for those who wanted to complete the suckling period." Habitually, my father preferred his children to grow up in Nigeria to Mexico, as he believed that, they would not be influenced by Western culcure. Consequently, he thought, they would get optimum Islamic knowledge; moral and religious upbringing.
I was in the second year in high school when my father resigned from his job. He enviably returned home, but he was very disappointed to find the situation I was in for the downfall and decadence of my morals, a very great disillusionment that resulted in blaming his brother (my uncle) for the collapse of my upright behaviour. As the result of that, my father tried to keep watching my movements so that I would minimise, if not hook, line, and sinker, reform and abandon such immorality. He made me to very much closer to him; driving him to various places, and whenever the school hours round off, I would proceed to his office and give him some assistance especially in works such as typing and filing. And we usually went to mosque together and attended some preaching points. Through all this, such bad demeanour vanished.
With the passage of time, my father was employed on contract by another textile company in Lagos. He really wanted to go with me, but my uncle insisted that I must stay with him until the time I have completed my studies. Naturally, my father was lenient and capricious, so, he agreed to my uncle's decision and left for Lagos alone.
One day, as I was lying on a sofa in the parlour, my uncle called me into his room and informed me that he would travel to Dubai. He said that he wanted me to take care of the activities in the house. He handed me over the keys of his cars, and warned me against reckless driving. I received the keys with glamour and some feeling of exaltation that now I had become trustworthy in his sight. Meanwhile, he gave me a huge sum of money saying: " Have this, in case the house might be in shortage of money or foodstuffs." I received the money and pocketed them.
A couple of weeks after his departure, I started visiting my ex-friends who were my accomplices. Unfortunately, they were not as good as I expected them to be; they were not changed. With their persuation and obnoxious advice, I rejoined them. Hence, we smoked Indian hemp, spent nights at night clubs, and visited a host of other similar places where undesirable acts took place.
Three weeks later, my uncle's daughter was hospitalised in a private hospital in the out-skirt of the city, after being diagnosed, her mother phoned me telling me about the charges to be paid before giving her any further treatment. She further told me that the child had been suffering from typoid fever, which had already had a negative impact on her intestine. After my arrival at the hospital, I was given the prescription list, but the meagre amount of money with me could not even be enough to fuel a car. However, I went for debt, but no one cared to lend me a kobo, as they realised the state of intoxication I was in. So, I started to search for money by hook or by crook.
I conspired with my companions to burgle, after being advised by Manga, the physique and the strongest of us. Initially, he engineered for the operation to be undertaken at night. Firstly, as high way robbers, but Tanko, the next in strength to Manga, insisted that it must be burgling, in which all of us agreed.
Unfortunately, we were arrested by the police soonest after we burgled the mansion. We were taken to the police station and put in the cells. Eventually, we were taken to court for trial. After two months' trial, Mangal and Tanko were found guilty as they were already wanted for the murder of an innocent driver and two passengers who they robbed and killed in one of the city streets two months ago. They were jailed for twelve years. But I was the luckiest of them as I was sentenced for half a decade without fine.
At the hospital, the patient died for lack of adequate medical care. This was because the charges were not paid, and the doctor promised not to give any patient whose wards didn't deposit a minimum half of the charges any advanced treatment. Initially, nothing was deposited to the hospital in terms of medication. The patient was only given some few tablets and syrups that might be donated by WHO.
Consequently, when my father heard about this regrettable incident, he was depressed and wept ceaselessly until his eyes turned red and vague. But my uncle didn't attack me physically or verbally as he referred to the incident as fate predestined by God. And that, of course, didn't bring hatred between us.
Now, I have been released after five years, but my greatest worry is that of the death of the innocent child. Would i be held accountable for her death on the Day of Judgement? It it is so, I can't do anything but regretting the day I did this pitiless act.


The rainy season has been so wet,
That my visitor hasn't come yet.
Every month comes the poor,
Knocking repeatedly on my door.

He would gaze to see all around
The veranda and balcony of my ground.
For he would receive the next month's store,
That is why he comes to my door.

And my neighbourhood could tell
What he did now so well;
That he has no more gut
To come as we took note.

Seducing one's daughter in one nook,
Night to my home, he was a crook.
Regrettably, he was a moron,
My alms to him is now none.

He was caught one day,
On running away without dealy.
He sought from them a favour,
As he was frightened with shiver.

Such thing wasn't good to hear,
When hearing I shed the tear.
For the man was very old,
With wives, children, young and old.

Now he could come no more,
For receiving at my door.
Pity on him I can't recall,
Grief engulfs me whenever I recall.

READING (a poem)

The light of humanity
The path to be genius
Exaltation lies in you,
Unrewarded reward is from you.
As I heard: "every glory
Unsupported by you, vanishes
Then replaced by disgrace."

Dies he whosoever
His life is given to you.
"The best is you in thought and say."
It is not my adage, but Arnold Mathew's
In the 19th century he lived.

The former was Shallaby,
The great Arabian thinker he be.
"Struggle I must become, a becoming and and end, and
An opposition to ends:"

To read, write and strive,
Were the words of Schopenhaur's disciple:
Nietzsche was the German Philosopher.

"Read, and read and read, everything timelessly."
Are my favourites', Jibril and I.B.K,
The influential emeritus and don.
Never ignore what they say
On reading: "animals all we be
Without you, thoughtless.

THE ENCOUNTER (a poem about NYSC)

Who says trash is in you?
Ignore him for he knows nil
Your miracles and lights.
Idiocy, naivety, nosiness,
And more junks you fight.

It unveils when one's mobilised,
Then, posting day one learns:
On the way to camp is enough,
One sees, hears, and perceives.
Journey is of knowledge, is that?
Learning continues up to the end...

But why a nasty simpleton argues,
What's not true about you, ah?
Heartless!Confined in a narrowed nook!
Hearken! Nook life is a crevice life!
Jungle life of savages' track.

Our faith teaches us thus:
Journey is a heart-moving fun,
A dictum: "experience teaches more
What he can never teach."

To know, one must strive, and
Striving denotes struggle in life.
"Seeing is believing", know that?
Latent and pompous then lapse.

Through you I've learnt lots
Values, religions, politics
That's not a lie!
Fame, fancy, and more
Well-known to all who did that.

But slander comes from a dull,
Redundant illiterate parsimonious mean,
Knowing nothing but eating HARAM!

Damn his habitual acts:
Sexual polygamist I knew that!
Why is he accusing a celibate man?
It was an irony as I heard that.

Thanks be to The Single Proof
Who forbids those deeds...
And my PRO bequeathed more:
Saying: "say good or just be hushed."

But to repay for bad is bad,
Revenge is not a lack;
Check the Books you'll find that!
My satiric verse is an open one,
Scathe me; I'm ready for that,
Keeping it lie is a cowardice act!

To a big-belly mean I give it as a reward,
Bosh! Stinking fellow I got that.
Try afresh; you'll regret your gab,
For mine fire and thunder it does have!
Next from the sky I'll commence!

Haram means unlawful thing.

Thursday, July 26, 2012

PUSHY LADY (a poem)

Beautiful is she,
Yet ignorant bushy,
White in colour
Dark-hearted, unclear.

Generous is she
To rascals as she.
Hospital is she,
In giving and pushy.
Do you get the point?
If not, meet me at joint.


He comes early
Dropping his stationery.
Mingling with worthless pals,
Cheering the ladies' worth.

He ignores his mission
And engages in wrong-doing.
No, he loses! And afresh he loses!
Who knows what he loses?

A gigantic treasury
Whose key once thrown to him,
Hence, neglecting its worth
And following cobwebs!

MY TEACHERS (a poem)

You nurtured me to survive
When I was unable to nurture myself.
You fed me when no one could feed me,
My teachers I shan't forget.

You taught me when nothing I knew,
You moralised me when I was demoralised.
Obedience and servility to parents,
With your help, all I learned.

In the dim of darkness I was
Before your coming with light,
That illuminated through my heart;
Leaving no organ in need of light.

My future vision was initially coarse,
As you came it was smoothed for life.
You counselled, guided and led my mind
To reality and achievement of life.

Amazingly I didn't know my right
Least my left as you came all I learned.
Prayer to oneself and parents also I learned
From you, now I pray for all.

Teachers you are the incubators of mankind!
Without you life should be in vague!
You are the water without you life is null!
I must be praising you in my life!

Teachers what you do is quite
Unrewarding by all humankind.
I value you for you are worthy of that;
I must pray for you until I die.


What a detestable, damnable, deplorable sting!
What a vacuous vandal!
What a varmint vanquish!
What a vapid vicious dim-witted cobra!
Tedious ghost, unpatriotic,
Blinkered and brainless!

Our progress declines,
Despised and barred?
Despite our sanity.
Nay! To this nausea!

Ours is but optimism,
Ours are barriers from travail,
To success, sureness and hope.
Yes, ours is audacity to lie!

Have we seen the inferno afar,
With its doors ajar,
Waiting many to dive amass!

Beware, claimant of the truth,
Yet, sticker to falsity,
Oppressor to academic folks,
Suppressor of goodness,
Foe to our panacea,
Repressor to itself,
Depressor to our bedrock,
And tantaliser to our dreams,
Yet despotic clenched fangs.

Waht a tenacious and precarious beast;
Sucking our blood alive?
Enough is enough, you genocidal missiles!
'No' and 'no' to this endemic felony!
Won't you free us?
Let you know: this life is mortal,
Let you repent, if not, go to hell!

The end of meeting, parting!
The end of journey, destination!
The end of life, death!
The end of death, resurrection!
The end of judgement: ABODE!

Two ABODES exist,
If one is not here,
Imagine it there,
Ours is enjoyably here,
But its just is there!


Why life in silence
Like an aged tomb,
What is that all about?
Living in silence!

Are you necessary?
Why not schooling at all?
Why do you elongate
Like a long woven rope?

You destroy our plans,
You dissect between us
With your sharpened dagger
And cease our blood to run.

I hate you much
For your malevolent acts.
I despise you as my death,
To my rest you are for no use!

You claim making me rest
From the over-burden of academic loads.
I say you are lie!
Rest is but like a prison term.

Move away from me!
For I am tired of your tyranny.
Or it'll be your end
As I'll refuse you and come alone.

Library will be my friend
Books will be my food
Prayers serve my intervals
And browsing to be my rest, not you!


SARARI AT WORK: BEWARE OF FRAUDSTERS (a poem): BEWARE OF FRAUDSTERS I passed out from trouble, That seemed like a battle. I was nigh to success, But I lost the access. I encountered...



I passed out from trouble,
That seemed like a battle.
I was nigh to success,
But I lost the access.
I encountered a wicked rogue.
Who wore a hideous brogue.
He was indeed a wannabe;
A bourgeoisie he seemed to be.
He was bodily a dweeb.
But inwardly, he was drab.
He offered me homage
With honour of a pledge.
"Where could I get change
Of Dollars without challenge?"
Swiftly, my curiosity arisen.
And my cupidity awoken.
"Bureau de Change I know."
In truth, I said to this fellow.
Verily, on this, I stammered,
At the same time, I shivered.
A friend I asked my wish
Who obeyed with no selfish.
Three of us rode Okada
To Badawa on this agenda.
A ghetto area we entered,
Into a trivial cottage we ushered.
In a box dollars were scattered;
Twenty thousand Naira was demanded
As payment for the keeper
Of the bucks, I could remember.
I paid the dough as demanded,
Later, one of them departed
To nowhere knew but Creator.
But fortune swapped the danger.
Meeting the crook man at a junction,
In Same day, I've to mention,
Caught hold of him and demanded
My money back, we requested.
"To my comrade you gave not me,
Out of my way, let me be free."
At last much when he suffered
In the hand of police, he surrendered.
My money was gladly refunded,
And the fraudsters were brutally treated!

Sunday, July 1, 2012


SARARI AT WORK: MISSION TO THE GRAVE: The mourners were crying, others were murmuring prayers to my humble corpse. The shroud which my body was to be wrapped was brought, and peo...


The mourners were crying, others were murmuring prayers to my humble corpse. The shroud which my body was to be wrapped was brought, and people men and women including my father were standing before my dead body. My father and my siblings were now carrying me to an open backyard where I would be washed. I could hear a very long hypocritical scream of my wicked step mother, which sounded like ululation. It seemed as if she was happy about my departure. The antics in her scream showed the reality of her lack of seriousness. It was a forged cry, and I believe, all this, was due to an inestimable hatred she had for me since my mother was alive.
Soon, our family house was crowded; the compound was filled up with different faces. At the entrance, many cars were parked, and their owners were patiently waiting for my burial. Relatives and well-wishers including my school mates were gathered to witness my funeral.
I wondered how people knew about my death so soon, especially as it was only a few minutes after my departure. Then suddenly I remembered that it was Sunday afternoon. I thought maybe Kabiru Musa Jammaje was informed about it, and he took advantage to announce it on the Freedom Radio during his programme Creative Writing.
My fiancée whose name was untold even when I was alive, fainted almost thrice when she heard about it. She was currently hospitalised at Aminu Kano Teaching Hospital.
My family, relatives, neighbours and others were now standing in a row for my funeral prayer. I was just kept down before them by four strong men; and the Imam stood over me saying his prayers. I could see tears dripping down my father's cheek when he was joining in the line. The prayer was off, and the Imam asked the congregation to pray for me. In less than five minutes; I was taken to cemetery.
On my bier, I could feel how I was being moved by the people who were carrying me. I could see how my intimate friends including Aliyu Abdu Babayo, Abba Ali Sadiq, Bashir Yahaya, Abba Danbatta, Miftahu Ya'u as well as Aminu Mu'azu were receiving my condolence. I could also overhear how the entire people were asking God for my forgiveness.
As soon as I was dropped down in front of my grave, which had been dug out by tomb-digger; I found myself preparing and folding the hands of my long-sleeved shirt among those who were trying to bury me. I was now laid gently into the grave, and I was actively helping them pushing the soil down on me. Suddenly I woke up, and then I realised that I was dreaming. It was now eleven o'clock noon, the time for Creative Writing Programme; and then I turned on my radio.


Saturday, June 30, 2012


SARARI AT WORK: A TRAGIC MORNING: The sun reverberated off the buildings of Gadon Kaya, with an example of glittering hand of diamonds. It was a shiny and a warm morning. Sal...


The sun reverberated off the buildings of Gadon Kaya, with an example of glittering hand of diamonds. It was a shiny and a warm morning. Salim woke up from a deep slumber, he ushered into bathroom for a morning shower. Having taken bath, he brushed his teeth, and then he cleansed his mouth with fresh clean water from a tap on the bathroom basin and walked out.
He walked into his room to dress up. He stretched out his thin hand and picked up a cream which was placed on a small drawer adjacent to his four-squared bed. He rubbed the cream into his face, arms and from his toes to the ankles.
He dressed up in a manner that fits the style of gentle men, a description of a northern Nigerian cultured young man. Meanwhile, he wore English costume, a red and white striped long-sleeved shirt with blue jeans trousers to match. Salim now recalled an appointment he had last night for meetIng his friend, Shitu Yusuf Isa at Shy Shopping Plaza by 9:30am. On recalling this, he was in haste to leave the house so as to make sure he gets there on time.
Suddenly, he placed his hand on the handle of the drawer and pulled it open, picked off his medicated spectacles which he wore to magnify his sight, furthermore, to protect his eyes from ultra-violet rays. In a few seconds, he put on the glasses and adjusted them on the middle of his skinny nose, so that half his eyeballs could be seen behind the lenses. He quickly put on his Brokie half-covered shoes that were made from camel hide.
Salim sprayed a splendid scented perfume that was given to him by his girl friend when the latter visited him last week. The perfume was tagged: "secret love".
It was but some minutes when Salim walked to the dining room for breakfast. Unfortunately, he found nothing on the table, he became disillusioned.
"Ahmad!" He shouted. But there was no answer. He then called one more time, yet there was not even a buzz of fly.
Salim glanced sluggishly at the clock which was passionably placed above the television in the room. It was 8:45am, he hissed and quit.
He left the dining room to the boy's quarter where he found Ahmad serving meal in the kitchen.
"Ahmad," he called vehemently. "Why haven't you served the meal?"
"Wallahi, Salim, I have been doing my best to serve it as early as possible, but the stove has a snag. Besides, its cotton strings are burnt, and there was not enough kerosene untill I sent Muzammil to Tal'udu Junction. It had to delay because he hadn't got it there until he drove to Kofar Kabuga where he hardly got it." Ahmad explained nervously.
"Why are you not cooking on pressure cooker?" Asked Salim.
"You know the gas cooker needs repair, besides, the gas cylinder is vacant." Ahmad replied.
Salim sighed a long sigh, and gave Ahmad a very hideous and stern look. This was due to the fact that Salim hated him especially because of his regular behaviour for not serving meals on time. Had it been Salim were the householder, he might have dismissed him from the house. Contrarily, Ahmad was very servile to Alhaji Salisu Nakundu, Salim's father; his dishes were delicious. As the result of that, Salim must bite his tongue, because Alhaji wouldn't tolerate his son disgracing cook unreasonably.
Finally, Salim left home at 9 on the dot. He walked along Aminu Kano Way, passing through Gadon Kaya gate to the venue. After he had crossed the first lane of the dual BUK road, he stopped a while to wait for the speedy passing vehicles as the traffic lights were like dummies; they stopped working. After the vehicles had passed by, he walked to cross the road to the direction of Shy Shopping Plaza; accidentally, an oncoming commercial motorcyclist from nowhere crushed into him; both of them collapsed on the bare-tarred road. They were brutally wounded and blood was gushing out from their unconscious bodies, and from Salim's nose and mouth. People nearby who witnessed the scene came to their aid as both were taken to the hospital. On their way to the hospital, Salim seemed to be semi-conscious as he started murmuring some words, unfortunately,he died while uttering the word of martyrdom.


Good day. It is a pleasure to introduce to you my new blog which I think can be part of sharing ideas on various issues. I humbly say, it will serve as a motivating force to me, particular, to see whether my academic experience and desire for learning and scholarship have reached a world view or consideration. I hope readers will help in contributing their own quota in this site. And, I hope, they will advise, correct, criticize and analyze in my efforts where necessary. I wish you all the best in your surfing. Thank you

Huzaifa Sani Ilyas