CONFIDENCE------- Adieu Chidi Nwosu

Cut down in the prime of life
Ousted violently from the stage
Not even forty years of age
Fallen, but never to be forgotten.
Inspired to lead the down trodden
Down a slippery, rough terrain, but now
Enveloped in God's loving hands
Never to know strife again, but then
Consider a young wife and baby left behind
Encircled by deep sorrow, loss and despair.

But then---

Confidence--- firm belief, trust, reliance---
On God, the Almighty, father of the fatherless-
Whom His servant had fearlessly believed and confessed,
Will come through for the beloved wife and child-
When they are held up and comforted by God's earthly hands-

You and I--- even in our own sorrow---

must make sure they come through, tough prospect though-
Attainable by standing on God's promises and truth, through
being His mouth, hands,feet and influence, for them, with all
Confidence.

Adieu Chidi !!!

Chinwe Enemchukwu
Pictures by Chinwe Enemchukwu

10-10-10------ A birthday Poem. (for celebrants)

Ten-Ten-Ten,
Triple Ten.
Tenth day, of the
Tenth month, of the
Tenth year, of the
The new millennium.
Ten fast years since gone.

On a scale of Ten,
The perfect score.
For competitive sports,
for best performance.
For grading pain on a scale,
for worst pain.
Gauging contentment,
for most content.
For scoring tests,
Ten for flying colors.

The perfect ten, hard to grab,
but nonetheless,can be
attained through great strain.
Pushing self to the limit
in sports, or facing great pain
in sickness or injury.
Burning the midnight oil,
To grab that great spoil---
The perfect score of Ten.

Ten-Ten-Ten
Triple ten
Like a triple crown,
Sits on heads today,
Birthdays, Anniversaries,
Regular,everything day.

Triple numbers come and go,
But ten-ten-ten, no ordinary set,
will soon be on the go.
Wear it like a crown, so brief you bet,
But a triple crown of a lifetime,
Nevertheless.
I wear mine, for a special day,
to be remembered forever.


Nwada (Lady) Chinwe Enemchukwu
Onye Uwa Oma
na Orlando, Florida.
10/10/2010.
Pictures by Chinwe Enemchukwu

Chains-----

chains--------

A link of sordid, violent events,
Held together by hooks of pain
forming a formidable, unbroken force,
Like thick wire chains,
Clanking,dangling,and then firmly affixed.
Restraining,shackling,by its weight,
The people.
Encircling,holding back,
Binding firmly,and condemning
human souls to perpetual pain.

Chains.
Victims are carried away,
Like linked animals from neck to neck,
Stacked together, all shackled.
To shuffle along ingloriously,like
Beasts of burden, muffled with bits,
like the days of real sorrow,
Stowed like ants in a furrow
in the belly of cars to hidden joints.
Then kept in dangerous dwellings in the forest,
To sweat and worry countless hours,or
Long days,or even weeks in the fortress,
Like caged animals,tamed;
To lift another to incredible wealth
From ransom cash.

Chains.
Connected links,indissoluble,stuck.
Holding a people in bondage;
Shackled by poverty,decadence and greed,
Crime,senseless crime, explodes in rage,
Creating---human----

Chains

Links,secured by wickedness in high places,
leaving a trail on the rough terrain,with
Linked souls dragging in the dust,
Unleashing despair and pain.

A caravan,driven by pettiness,
and greed for power and gain.
Surrounded by buffoonery,
Urged on by a symphony
Of players of different tunes,
Blending in mournful harmony
like howling jackals hungry for meat---

Power, position,control and wealth.

Chains.
The hired criminals abound,petty criminals too,
descending daily on their victims
Like viciuos bees, hungry for nectar,
Oozing from tree hollows in links;
Like chains,tumbling out of storage bins.
They fall on their prey,now
to the hard terrain pinned.
Chains----

Politics, power, money,jobless youth mix,
to hold and shackle Nigerians,
Like chains.



Nwada (Lady) Chinwe Enemchukwu
Onye Uwa Oma
na Orlando, Florida
September 29th 2010

CUP--- CARRIED UP PROMPTLY

CUP.
Carried up promptly.
A stretch of the abbreviation,
CUP.
Carried up promptly
Nimbly.
By the able hands of Destiny
Bestowed by the Almighty.
Carried up promptly,
Nimbly.
And ever so gently
Ere the culprits separated, stealthily
From the unsightly strategy
To rub out a God given destiny
From God's child,
In a dungeon so craftily
Set up with a trapped destiny,
Resigned, clueless.
Traps and tags,unknown to the trapped,
Then carefully connected to cap
God's given destiny, and to sap
The rich enchanting quality
Filling the cup, the divine cup
Of God's bounty, running over.
CUP.
Carried up promptly,
Nimbly.
God's child is aloft, soaring,
Smoothly.

Nwada (Lady) Chinwe Enemchukwu
Onye Uwa Oma
na Orlando, Florida.
Copyright 08/05 2010.

 

Above, a simple evening outfit is transformed by a headgear, modelled,
courtesy of the craftswoman. The outfit immediately acquired an African,
specifically Nigerian flair to it.


Headgear or headtie are the English names;
Ichafu,Gele in Nigerian tongues;
Whichever you call it,
It is still that piece Nigerian women
Adorn themselves with,along with
the traditional attire, usually
well coordinated to match and
make a resounding fashion statement.

Firmly perched on the head, this piece
completes any outfit,lifting an ordinary
outfit out of the dungeons to outstanding.
Transforming a good outfit to new heights
in the fantastic mode.
It is not a hat, fits like a hat, but
definitely not a hat.
A hat retains the same shape for its
life time, stored in a box for safety.
The headgear is adaptable, can change
like a chameleon, though not in color,
in style,to match any outfit.
Trust the able hands of craftswomen and lately
men,to fold,bend and pin the mostly stiff
fabric, into various forms and styles to top
a wide range of fashion styles.

Gele can now top off jeans outfits, an
evening gown, Asoke, Lace, Akwete, Ankara and
various traditional fabrics and tailoring styles.
Ichafu is now worn by both young and old.
Used to be the trademark of madams, married
women and adult women.
But no more.
Teenagers, young brides and their ladies in waiting,
file out in traditional outfits topped with gorgeous
headgear to match their glowing young faces.
Ichafu is in for all.
The bigger and brighter, the better.

Showing off the incredible talent of Nigerians,
Male and female, young and old.
Nigerians make fashion statements galore;
Really hard to ignore, noticed and admired
By many eyes beholding them.
But that's about it.

The rush of over twenty years ago, by Africans
outside Africa,
To wear African, really Nigerian attire quietly died off.
The Mandela's visit and outing
decked in gorgeous African gear,
sparked an appreciation of such
and a strong demand. It lasted for a while.

What actually killed it,nobody knows.
The cumbersome nature of such outfits?
Could it be the same creativity Nigerians are known for?
Flooding the world with fraudulent mail and
activities, leaving a bad taste in the mouth of many,
thereby killing Nigeria's reputation and everything Nigerian?
Flooring each other every chance Nigerians get?
Fleeing their homeland in large numbers no matter
the risk?
Being viewed as jokers?
Since they are the happiest people on earth,despite
the hellish atmosphere in the homeland?

Re-branding Nigeria may take off with gusto
tapping into the creativity of Nigerians.
With the right environment,atmosphere,
infrastructure and mindset,
The incredible talent of Nigerians can be
garnished, put together and put out to
give Nigerians jobs, pride and a new headgear.
The world will catch on one more time.
Undoubtedly.

Nwada (Lady) Chinwe Enemchukwu
Onye Uwa Oma
na Orlando, Florida
Copyright: 7/17/2010

The Hunt

Pouncing like a cornered tigress
which just saw a chance,
The feline of Asian forests
Endangered
Tawny coat,stripes and all.
Tired of being hunted
by ruthless hunters for
her coat,cubs and all.
Total annihilation on their mind.
As in extermination, eradication,
As in obliteration, complete destruction,
of the tawny feline and her line.

They push unrelenting on her trail
Trekked years with young by her tail
Hanging for dear life without fail.
The hunters lunging as with swords
A menacingly brutal throng
On the tigress and her young,
One last swoop, the kill is made
Or so they thought.
Till the hunter became the hunt
Bloodied by the tawny gentle striped beast.
The throng scattered around
Befuddled.


Nwada (Lady) Chinwe Enemchukwu
Onye Uwa Oma
na orlando, Florida
Copyright June 26 2010

DIASPORANS

Sizzling like whistling kettles
Running out of steam,
Despite the heightened heat
from the stoked fire beneath.
Fire stoked daily by bad winds
Hurling from the homeland.
Deadly winds, brutal as the harmattan
Fanning the fire and scorching the skin
of diasporans already double stretched thin.

The whistle, now a mournful whine
Emitting from once courageous souls
Weary from encompassing hopelessness,
Warding off hardship in the host land,
Terrified by surrounding wickedness.
Saddened by frequent untimely passing.
Plain finding it ever harder to stand
The whirlwind life of foreign lands.

Still they struggle to increase the pace,
Trying much harder to transform the race,
Straining daily to get it in stride,
And by so doing,surely control the tide,
And with that success,make it to shore,
From all indications, having tried for sure.

They beat themselves to messy pulp
Taking more than possible in a gulp.
They whistle and sizzle wildly, blowing
Twirling steam in an urgent puff,
Scorching white puff, nothing more.
Like whistling kettles working ever so hard
To give more steam, scorching steam, words
Useless for the problem on hand
But ever so harmful nonetheless.


Nwada (Lady) Chinwe Enemchukwu
Onye Uwa Oma
na Orlando, Florida.
Copyright © June 19 2010