To the Girl I almost married last night in my dreams by Omale Allen Abdul-Jabbar

Perhaps she’II

Be like you


For I joyed terribly

last night,

When I almost married you

In my dreams.


Your very long hair

Cleverly hidden in

A head gear,

Your eyes of melting

Blue snow.

That orange veil

That you wrapped tenderly

Around your sholders

Scenting of lemons blossoms;


And you were half Arabian!


There were blue ribbons

In the red skies

And you were gazing

Down at me where I laid

In the desert sand


Your gaze fell in diamond petals

Across my chest;

And I was a man blessed


Zainab Usman: A lady extraordinaire by Muhammad Muntasir Adamu

It’s said that the difference between ordinary and extraordinary is just that little extra. As such Zainab is unarguably and undoubtedly an extraordinary lady and one of the best of her generation. As an undergraduate student, she is among those few young individuals that I look up to because of their remarkable achievements and their zeal in what they’re doing.

Since the commencement of this year’s annual ASUU strike which is just one of the Nigerian factors, I decided that am going to devote the whole of this compulsory break into reading books, essays, articles, some online and while others offline.  In the process, I became a regular visitor of Zainab’s blog site. Her blog and that of other great Nigerians became my dwelling home on the Nigerian cybersphere.

Zainab is someone who I think in my humble view is also full of humility. In one of her post which she titled “Back to school” which was posted on October 5, 2012, she was able to tell her reading audience in short words the plight of many Northern Nigerian ladies when she said “…I am acutely aware of how “lucky” someone of my demographic: black, African, Nigerian (Northern-Muslim in particular) woman is, to have such opportunities to pursue their dream,…”. It is humble prayer that in years to come, there will be many Zainabs in the Northern of the country.

Zainab is among the few graduates who left the university with not just their certificates but also with the comrade struggle (Aluta continua, Victoria accerta) which she has intrepidly deployed in her cascading fulmination against our philistines and political class. She writes articles on issues that are bedeviling the Nigerian society and proffer solutions on different mediums.

Zainab is an Amazon gifted with guts, gumption and iron in her backbone. Unfortunately, her poise, finesse, elegance and mental acuity can only be matched by few. I usually referred to her as Nigeria’s Thatcher because she is strong hearted, firm and resolute also.

Zainab has proved that it is possible for lady to combine beauty with brain and sparkling achievements. By doing this, she has joined the lengthy list of eminent women who are today occupying a sensitive place in the hall of fame not only in Nigeria or Africa but the world at large.

Few times I have wondered whether this greatness is from the name “Zainab” because my god-mother who goes by the name of Prof. Zainab Alkali is in my humble view, one of the greatest women to have ever grace the earth because she has proved herself as a daughter, sister, friend, wife, mother, god- mother, grandmother, lecturer, writer, University administrator and others numerous to mention. But if my assumption turns out to be true, I will have no option but to marry any lady who bears this name. Fortunately, there is one in my town who is also an undergraduate like yours truly.

Conclusively, Zainab I wish you the best in your entire doings. You are an inspiration especially to young individuals like me. Keep doing what you are doing and may the almighty God guide and protect you all the way. I assure you that as long as ASUU continues to strike; your blog site has not seen the last of me yet.

Zainab blogs at

Muntasir is a student of Univeristy of Jos, Jos, Nigeria.

@muntasirkanam(on twitter)

O Enchantress by Muhammad Muntasir Adamu

O enchantress,

This spell is so unbreakable

Cos I have fallen  too deep and

It has taken over every facet of me; my body and soul

Oh, I love the way I keep loving you


O echantress,

At the prouncement of your name,

It comes with etheral fragrance

Which gives me sweet illisions, hallucinaions and confusions

All at the same time.


O echantress,

Looking at you won’t just do,

Instead, I prefere to stare at you

And while staring at you,

I try not to blink my eyes

So that I won’t  miss a thing

Cos the sight of you put me in raptures.


O enchantress,

I feel so blessed when  I think of you

And it touches every fibre of my being

Cos like the reed in the wind,

I will always bend to your wishes.


O enchantress,

Every heart has its desires

If only people will realize that.

As such, you don’t love yourself

As much as I love you

Cos without you, I feel restless


O echantress,

You are my shinning light and compass rose

When am lost, your love always leads me to the right path

Oh, I am so lost in your magic.


O enchantress,

I want you to want me,

I need you to need me,

I love you to love me

Cos  for you am giving my head the permission to  follow my heart

Oh my lady, am not the one talking;

Love is…

Cross My Soul (A Poem) By Leah Sewuese Anyo

If ever I knelt
Before the very altar of God
I’d shed no tears
Compared to this river flowing
And the drums playing
Within my heart

I call it murder
I stare in utter wonder
The way you walk in such perfection
And yet stir in me
Such pitiless emptiness

It’s hard to tell
And still harder to hide
As one looks at one
without a single utterance

With each day rushing
To see the future
It feels I’m drowning into a new world-
A world of inflammations

With each smile from the setting sun
I utter your name in sweetness
And nothing has ever felt so rhythmic
Like the echo of your voice

I might as well think it funny
Not a single word has breathed out
Yet the thoughts are over-whelming
And they fill me with much tenderness

I’m running behind time
Caught in this burning flame
That threatens to turn my soul to coal
As my heartbeat increases by each second

Now torn in shreds
I hang my neck in confusion
A number of questions storm my mind
One being more pressing

Do people love without telling
Living and dying with such feelings?

IT WASN’T YOU, IT WAS ME (An Extempore Poem) by Su’eddie Vershima Agema

( for yesterday…)


It wasn’t you

It was me.

It wasn’t that you were late.

It’s just you made convenience expire.

I would have stayed forever to wait

You know, simply to catch the beauty of you

even for those moments – a few

but time came to call

and I didn’t know if you really would come…



Did you know that I had to bite my fingered thoughts

wondering what I’d tell you?

Yes, you leave me breathless…

So, as I ticked those moments waiting

wondering what to say…

That time when I told you to take your time

little or no inspiration came my way

Still, the glee of the moment

just the thought of you was enough to relieve me of the torment


When you didn’t show

I eventually had to go

Life called and other issues


Wipe the tears dear

It wasn’t you

It was me.

It wasn’t that you were late.

It’s just you made convenience expire.

I would have stayed forever to wait

You know, simply to catch the beauty of you

but time came to call


And that is why when you tried to call

the user was absent at the other end.

Far too long (The Silence Lingers) – A poem by Su’eddie Vershima Agema

(For A…)

Through it all, I lost your touch

For some reason the silence lingers
The space widens
The elasticity of love and friendship stretches longer
Is it work, time or hard luck?
Is it that the thought of fondness no longer gladdens?

Whatever it is…

For some reason, the silence lingers
The space widens
The elasticity of love and friendship stretches longer
And through it all, I miss you much.