Category Archives: Political criticism


Welcome to Nigeria;

The fictional country.


You are mad if you

don’t know that

Nigeria is a fiction!


I’m mad, and I know it is

a fiction.

I’m not mad because of them

I’m mad because

you thought your dreams

are achievable only

with their long spoons.

I’m also mad,

not because I’v not eaten

but because the larger

hungry planet of masses

will vote again

for change.


I’m mad because

we will not change

our diapers

and sing new songs.

I’m mad because

these words are too

light for the sane,





a bit…


Only the mad can speak out!


Find my book of poetry online for just $5. Google search I Know Why Your Mother Cries




If Corpers can’t feed well again,
If Students can’t afford tuition fees,
If our mothers can’t cook good meals again,
If our fathers can’t boast of jobs,
If our sisters are running into prostitution,
if our brothers are heading for cyber-crime,
if our libraries remain empty,
if our leaders send their children abroad,
if back home, our leaders don’t care,
if we are forced to ask,
“Is this Our nation, Are we lost?

Then really, We are lost
  ©Badiru Kehinde



     I’m well sure many don’t even know him, not to talk of remembering him. Well, it’s the configuration the system we find ourselves has made. For history’s case and sake, Sumonu Oladele Giwa born on March 16, 1947 from the prestigious Ile-Ife died October 19, 1986 (Age 39)in Ikeja ,Lagos. He remains the journalist if not the most prominent to have died by a Mail bomb explosion as a present from the demons in governance then.
         We find these demons in the nation’s farmland today harvesting the wealth of the land, milking the nation’s purse dry and uprooting every form of justice and voices of truth. Dele Giwa was a journalist who the government of General Ibrahim Babangida felt was too taciturn over and keen on truth. He died two days after he had been interviewed by State Security Service officials (SSS).He was seen as too revolutionary and  he did this through his Newswatch which was set up in 1984. This paper is said to have revolutionalized Nigeria print media. He was a model of truth, stood for truth and wanted the best for the nation. His pen shed tears today exactly 30 years ago when he was assassinated. This cycle has been, and will continue. Those who stand for truth are either shuffled out of existence, incarcerated or enticed with federal packages which keeps their lips sealed.
       In a nation many have said is not ripe for self-rule and probably needs a recolonization according to Republican candidate, Donald Trump are leaders who plunge the nation’s ship to capsizing and have no dream for the nation and the people. Let Dele Giwa be a model for all of us.  I’m writing this to Nigerians particularly youths who are waiting on the government to make life better and help them achieve destiny and fulfill purpose. Your destiny is in your hands, not that of our leaders. Let me remind you as I end my whistling that the pockets and stomachs are the concerns of leadership in Nigeria, not you or your life. They less have us in hearts. Today, the world remembers Dele Giwa as a hero and a mighty pen that lives on.
        To this end, there are complications behind Dele Giwa’s death which you’d be interested to know, his background and life which is one to draw inspiration from. I drop my gong and sip my emu. Ride on!

©Badiru Kehinde
(Poet, Essayist, Fiction Writer, Grad. Student, Osun Student University)
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              Nigeria (a woman with nappy around her waist) has had an analogous case of a proverbial fowl that perches on a robe, the robe is restless, the fowl is restless. Nigeria has had an history to which instead of learning from is trapped by. Nigeria in the past and present has been an abattoir of its citizens for butchers like the insurgents, ritualists, bad construction companies, poverty promoters, corrupt citizenry, those who need abattis of the few saints and the truth et cetera. This nation wallows in the quagmire mire of stagnancy. Its oil boom has chameleoned to doom. There are proliferations of worship centres but no panacea to the age-long predicament of the nation. Instead it seems they fed it elixirs. We coat rusty irons into our government positions and brand them new. The youths are redundant and were being fashioned into devil’s workshop and worktools. Old gluttonous grey beards parade the Nigerian corridor of power. Yet we clamour for change. Our fingers are crossed and our bellies are adapting to the current economic downturn of this Jungle. We still have faith in the current Mr. President for just twain years. When the time expires, then, We will  know how to grade him, We will know if We should serve him the meals which I served the previous regimes. Twain years for the burden of change is not easy to bear. Japan, China and otherother Asian Tiger’s inspiring history took years to be written in fine ink. Rome too was not built in a day. No matter the decade this is going to take for the seed of change to sprout, We are not tired of waiting, only if the future is not foggy and pessimistic.
                     The road is clear, the road is known. But the destiny of a lost dog starts with its deafness to the hunter’s whistle. The truth is alive but buried by the silence of its bearers. Question: Who will resuscitate it with resilience? Though the truth will speak for itself maybe when it delay its coming till after the death of its benefactor. Nobody wants to die but, wants Paradise’s goodies.To this effect, Shakespeare states that death is  a necessary end. All religious books supported the fact that death is a necessary end. J.P Clark repeated it in his verse “Casualties” that heros die once but cowards die many times before their death. We have been escaping battles, and living to fight another and even another. Where are the veers and valiants! Where are the men of valor! The earth has drunk blood already, don’t be afraid to feed it more if the embodiment of the blood is an hurdle on the path of change. Let our feet stamp the dust once. Let our voice echoe once. Let us expand our coast, let our economy wear garments of diverse colours. Feed earth its food, and she will bless you in return. Leave her milk alone, for you bled her blood not milk. It is not an oil boom but an oil doom. The elders’ wealth of experience and the children’s tact made Ifè. Open the door of the nucleus of governance to the youths. Wash the sword of its dusty abandonment, blind her so that when it swings, it knows no emotions. Let us learn from history and not be trapped by it. Let history paint our portraits under the caption of victor not the caricature of us being victims. Teach each child virtue, don’t set fire under your bushel. Let the adults live by example. Let our eyes in the vault of power serve without being seduced by the alluring witchcraft of the treasury. Let’s go on this adventure and come back as a bunch of broom, not scattered broomsticks and tattered umbrellas. Let’s rewind the clock to the Africa of our forefathers. The Africa that tell moonlight tales under trees, the Africa that minds no blood differences. The Africa that stretched its arms to the whites. But let us watch our heads like the crabs. We are elders, let’s look back at the log that fell us and plan not to fall again. Let’s rewrite the script of this film. Let’s give our children better films to watch. These are just the conflicts, at the resolution of the film, it will be qualified to be called a melodrama. If you don’t want these words to be like masturbating the moon, please share it everywhere, not just let it rest in your heart.


Edited: One Nigerian Dream Media

Convener: Badiru Kehinde (Poet, Writer, Editor, Graduate Student, Literary Studies, UNIOSUN)
See ONE NIGERIAN DREAM on Facebook for more info






I jerked up from the world of slumber, the land of sleep,
Only to realize I’m once again awake in a nation of the unknown,
And a state of uncertainties,
Oh! Why must I wake again this perfidious morning?
Even when the inner-me knew I wasn’t perfervid ’bout the early wake
I wanted to go back into slumber,

The boy next door asked!
What is it to jubilate about?
Or are we yet again set to dance to the melody of our shattered hopes?
A hundred and sixteen years since we emerged as one Nigeria, so called,
And fifty-six years of Independence yet we remain dependent,
What is there to roll the drums about?
A so-called giant that still crawls,
I wake up every morning full of tears,
Cos our country keeps shattering our hopes,
No good schools, no food, no power, no security, no power, no
security, no water, no medicals, Yet you want to roll out the drums,
If only I had a pistol while writing this epistle,
I won’t have spared anyone that dared to roll the drums.

They eat our flesh for food and we still wash the plate
There will be blood! One day we will rise up in rage.
We grow grey trying to catch our dreams
If some grey beards’ are this nation’s embryo,
Played on board, Still…
We preach freedom
But we still got leash on
Pay attention see heroes turning in graves,
I hear Awo saying, “look what my country became ”
Like Jesus turned water to wine
One day our grief will turn to gain
Nigeria, quit crying. Stand up and fight
You need hope not help
We walk around in chains, you call it jewelry, I call it slavery
Like a Black Moses, one day I shall see to the freedom of my people

I wish I’m with a nation which cares
One which lends a ear
NIGERIA, wake up!!!
Our kids keep dying,
Our kins keep crying,
Our graduates are scared of graduating,
No blames, our hopes are shattered and the future looks bleak,
A nation at 56, yet still begging,
A nation with first-class natural resources,
Yet its citizens still feed on crumbs.
A nation with looters as leaders,
And paddlers as lawmakers,
Our leaders have turned against us, even with the mantra of “CHANGE”
Who will bell the cat?

Contributors: Adedeji Ademola (Tennesse,USA), Lamina Ifeoluwa (Sagamu, Ogun State) Adejokun David (Ibadan, Oyo State), Akinwunmi Adewunmi (Ikirun,Osun State), Badiru Kehinde (Beach Area, Badagry)

Convener: Badiru Kehinde (Poet, Writer, Editor, Graduate Student, English & Int’l Studies, UNIOSUN)
See ONE NIGERIAN DREAM on Facebook for more info