The Sigh

sometimes ,without searching

we stumble upon

the lyrics of an obscure song

or the well worded lines from an odd novel
that describes us so perfectly

that in them we feel 

the ease of home belonging 

with or without life’s complexities

No Care

she expected smiles 

filled with warmth

and echoing laughters 

so loud that it would awaken and rival the 

joy of lunchtime in nursery school
for in her mind

his textual attraction

was the fuel that lit up her days more than her phone charger did

two tics worthier than 50 greys
late night convos

kinky words dressed up sexier than 

honeymoon lingerie

she found solace in
the comforting space of his words

even if they were lies

his tongue took her to places that tornadoes couldn’t

when they went down

selective amnesia for the lies

all she wanted was the moment
nothing more


Ya Bomb(YaBome)

Baby day mammy Coker up and dong 

As her conclusion sees bridges burn

Two kids as important as her eyes 

Single mother 

Their dad left the Michael Phelps for her

And after the gold medals 

He pulled out

Something he should have done after laying with her

Life crayola giving multiple colours

She can’t hold on

Born again Christian 

Wishing she was born in a better household 

Kids fucked over by the system 

Public school ain’t the answer for it

Res akara, pan body wit wan room and just a mat to sleep

Kid’s backbreaking like the very hard grounds they sleep

Petty trade is the FBC or Yale she sees

Her kids ending up like her a legacy she can barely break

The beauty of their innocence always makes her weep

A sinking ship and sadly she’s the captain of it

All she can do is watch 

Keep them out of the cold for a little while

Failure the eventual proprietor

Her belief in God we all know is a doubted one

But she needed a backbone just to make her strong

But unfortunately she’s caught up tight in between like a thong
with mama Yabome six feet 4years on , death bought her sister Marie cheaply from the streets with HIV where she sold her body and sent her residing next door to their mother
Tenneh sought escape from this alcatraz of poverty with ambitions higher than Nasa’s thruster engines running on church prayers
gnawing hunger to achieve whilst thirsting for success on the dripping hand me down apparels of hope she clothe herself with daily
she fashioned rungs out of raw ambition and clawed her way to the university with a Mata Hari desperation
for if faith failed , or hope quivered , her shaking hips and sultry stares made lecturers reverse their grading alphabets to first letters learned
Morals were secondary, primary

goals were paramount to her like Ronaldo if they led her to the top
If luck was random, she prefered to kidnap it and stir the winds of her scholarship to sail to Harvard
she mastered her art, perfected her adopted accent with a razor sharp clean cut precision and waxed on a smile that would make Madame Tussaud’s figurines blush
Ivy league and proud ,she had no association with petehteh leaf posin way nr ever sidom na bod beleh or who didn’t measure up to par or above her strata, 
or called her Tenneh
…Tina she was now
amnesia she had for anyone that reminded her of her past or the quagmire of popolipo she hailed from
the top tier job she always dreamed of finally came with a white collar salary of a developed nation exec in a third world country
she raped contracts, cut corners on projects and pilfered huge sums minusing the dividends of help to the needy
the unconditional love she held was reserved for only on the pale faces in foreign currencies or the lengthening algorithm coding like figures in her offshore bank accounts
If empathy had a voice it had been murdered or subdued into muted silent screaming in her mind, 


hate she gave to those in squalor and poverty because they reminded her of her lowly beginnings
she never gave back..or extended an helping hand..

afterall no one did the same for her, and a Saint she wasn’t..

selflessness in a selfish cold world she perceived as a

To her creme de la creme new friends, she was ‘ d wangrain pikin of da salone doctor and e wef way die na da plane crash september 11’
In that facade she thrived…
Mami Yabome ,

 akara and plasas seller

single mother

devoted mama


wept in her grave..
No one heard her..

The Dead has no voice

…Tina/Tenneh stole on.

and the cycle continued
©Din..oH! And