“THE NEED TO SEE LITERATURE DIFFERENTLY”…Badiru Kehinde

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Just yesterday when American singer and songwriter Bob Dylan was awarded the Nobel Prize in literature, questions have been raised on the basis of selection which traditionally is supposed to be focused on fiction writers, poets and playwrights. These were literary expressions which used to be criterias for awarding this prize.

PM News wrote, “He is the first American to win since the novelist Toni Morrison, in 1993. The announcement, in Stockholm, came as something of a surprise. Although Mr. Dylan, 75, has been mentioned often as having an outside shot at the prize, his work does not fit into the literary canons of novels, poetry and short stories that the prize has traditionally recognized”. Although, the award has had its way into Africa through winners like our very own Wole Soyinka, Nigeria (1986) with Camus, Albert Algeria (1957), Maathai, Wangari Kenya (2004)
Theiler, Max South Africa (1951, Luthuli, Albert John South Africa (1960). However, Senior research fellow at The University of Ibadan, Institute of African studies, Dr. Senayon Olaoluwa wrote, “The Nobel Prize for Literature has refused to come Africa’s way again…wahala no dey…It’s good news for popular culture, anyway. Congratulations to Bob Dylan!”.

Similarly Literary scholar, Dr. Rotimi Fasan  has this to say; “Do you still wonder whether it’s scholarly to see poetry in Dagrin, 9ice or P Square to say nothing of Sunny Ade?  When some wondered if African oral forms are worthy of the name literature, can such people tell us why an American folk singer can or  should be awarded a major prize in literature. Expand your definition of literature and the literary which is not necessarily only what you were taught inside the four walls of a school”

This goes to say that literature today is changing and the walls which it used to be trapped are basically expanding. If a folk singer can be awarded a Nobel Prize, an Hip-hop artist,Country, soul,smoothjazz or jazz music could also someday. One battle the African continent had to fight was the renegotiation of the fact that Africa had her indigenous oral forms which the west have tried on several occasions to debunk. Well  I’m watching out for the likes of Brenda Russel, Drake, Adele, The Weekend, Solange, Rihana, Brian Cubertson, John Mayer, Jonathan Butler, Anita Baker,  etc to probably get an award someday. LOL just a take. Consider our very own Sunny Ade, the musical legend who just celebrated his 70th birthday. Essays are being received by the centre of African studies, University of Ibadan in order to celebrate the legend.  It’s an exploration of the intersection between Juju music and literature and the aesthetics each of these artises dedicate to their musical art. This supports the claim that there is a need to see literature differently.

It’s not new that the study of literature in the scholarly sense of it has left the pages of the three genres, what we have today is a cross breed of genres, a mix of these traditional forms even with the recent digital and new media devices which we have at our finger tips today. The study of literature today is becoming a honeymoon, a bed of roses and really something to live with, in and for.

©Badiru Kehinde
(Poet, Essayist, Fiction Writer, Grad. Student, Osun Student University)
(Badagry) 14/10/16
Drop your comments
Contact: Badirukehinde@gmail.com

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POEM: HAITI SHALL RISE AGAIN

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‘HAITI SHALL RISE AGAIN’

There was a cane
It came hurriedly
Scientists called it a hurricane
With a Matthew.

The touch off,
The flashing wind,
The shattered hands…
The matthew we knew brought
Sweet words to the lips of mankind
Not tears, fear and floating hopes.

Yet, it may seem the world
Is silent,
But no! Haiti
Shall rise again
Like Wawi and Machiavelli
These sad songs will fade,
And new choruses will be sang
Soon,
         Sooner than yesterday!
                  We stand with Haiti.

  ©Badiru Kehinde
(AGRYBad) 9/10/16

IG@Kejibanks

ONE NIGERIAN DREAM (SELECTED POEM: WHO WILL MEND)

ONE NIGERIAN DREAM (SELECTED POEM)
MY NIGERIA: SUSTAINABLE DEVELOPMENT, THE PAST, THE PRESENT AND THE WAY FORWARD
CC: SHATTERED HOPES; WHO WILL MEND OUR NIGERIAN DREAMS?

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
Sleep!
no!!
more!!!
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?

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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
Contact: Onenigeriandream@gmail.com

Features: ONE NIGERIAN DREAM (SELECTED ARTICLE) MY NIGERIA: SUSTAINABLE DEVELOPMENT, THE PAST, THE PRESENT AND THE WAY FORWARD

              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.

terms, 

Written: OGUNLEKE ADEKUNLE EMMANUEL
Pen name: AKINKUNMI ADEWUMI
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
Contact: Onenigeriandream@gmail.com

ONE NIGERIAN DREAM (SELECTED POEM: WHO WILL MEND?)

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ONE NIGERIAN DREAM (SELECTED POEM)
MY NIGERIA: SUSTAINABLE DEVELOPMENT, THE PAST, THE PRESENT AND THE WAY FORWARD

CC: SHATTERED HOPES; WHO WILL MEND OUR NIGERIAN DREAMS?

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
Sleep!
no!!
more!!!
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
Contact: Onenigeriandream@gmail.com

Poem: FOOTPRINTS

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FOOTPRINTS
Pressed in 4s and 5s
Like Circle of 4ths and 5ths
In My Piano head

Our footprints,
In sizes and colours
Landmark, touched
Feathered with passion
To take just
The next Step…
Footprints

©Badiru Kehinde

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