Goodnight Justice Oputa* (A Tribute)

If death could be appeased,
I would have pleaded for Justice Oputa.
If old age can be reversed and healed,
Then I know I’ll see a healthy Oputa.

He said, ‘To hear with one ear and deliver judgement
Is a flagrant violation of the natural law of justice.’
The iconic jurist delivered a great judgment.
Now he parts from all earthly justice.

Let the gowns and wig mourn,
Let the giant Ikoro be sounded.
An enigma in the jurist world is gone,
But the Oputa spirit cannot be grounded.

I bid thee farewell with a salute
I sing my heart out from a distance
For the love, you showed to all I salute
And I know your legacies will be told as a story.

I bid thee goodnight great Oputa
The legal world salutes your altar.
I salute your doggedness and humility
I salute your ingenuity and great ability.
Let the flag fly at half mast
For we have lost a rare gem at last.

Opia-Enwemuche Maxwell Onyemaechi
06-05-2014

* Justice Chukwudifu Akunne Oputa was born on 22nd September 1924 at Oguta and died on 11th May 2014.

justice-oputa

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A Journey to the World of Mazi Okechukwu: A Review of The Oracle of Isieke by Opia-Enwemuche Maxwell Onyemaechi

Reviewer –   Opia- Enwemuche Maxwell Onyemaechi

Book Title- The Oracle of Isieke

Author-   Maxwell Onyemaechi Opia- Enwemuche

Publisher- Readon Publishers Limited

Year- 2013

Page- 100

In his debut novel, “The Oracle of Isieke”, Maxwell Onyemaechi Opia- Enwemuche tells a suspense-filled story revolving around a young man, his village, his heart of forgiveness and the oracle that brought peace to the land of Isiaku.Reading through the book, you get this feeling of pleasurable fascination and excitement mixed with apprehension, tension, and anxiety developed from an unpredictable, mysterious, and rousing source of entertainment. This actually made me to read the whole book without a halt and discovered the rich cultural content of the novel. Intriguing, revealing, thrilling and interwoven in various captivating plots, the book delivers great value and morals and points a direction at how we can let go of offenses and rather pursue peace and seek the overall or common good of all rather than the seeming satisfaction that comes with getting even.In this short story, the author blends culture, tradition, humour, hatred, and love to tell a compelling tale that would move any mortal into empathy for the protagonist. Indeed, this looks real than fiction making one wants to be in Isiaku. I would personally love to see the graveside of Mazi Uchenna Okechukwua to salute his courage and tenacity during those trying moments and the wonderful Okilo, the great’ in order to tap from his wealth of knowledge and fountain of his vocabulary.The writer’s use of simple language leaves the reader entwined in the story and creates a desire in the reader to be in the setting as the story unveils in quick succession. Indeed the book tells of the story of Isiaku in line with the moving quote in the opening page, ‘The people that forget their culture shall utterly be enslaved because every man has a history [root] and every village a story to tell.’  There is a lovely sequence in which poetry was used as a song to drive home the message of hatred for Mazi Uchenna by the village of Isiaku. The novel is timely in an era where our African culture which ordinarily lies supine in our present day society is brought to life by highlighting on strong cultural values and tradition. Typical African scenery was painted by using simple language and good chronological account with grains of humour dotted therein for proper understanding even by an average reader. Though I found the character of Mazi Obiorah interesting as the antagonist that brought doom on the village of Isiaku, I enjoyed the character of Okilo, ‘The great’ who in the midst of death ravaging the land, he had his cap of humor and tons of grammar to keep him happy.

The oracle itself was seriously stressed on as a powerful tool for restoring peace in any troubled land within the clans.

Though our culture may be on trial on scale and balances, I was held spellbound by this wonderful piece that I wished I was at Isiaku when these events happened.

The writer achieved the essence of the subject matter as peace was achieved in the land of Isiaku by the forgiving heart of Mazi Uchenna Okechukwu.

I recommend it to the reading public, old and young, but most especially the youths in order to teach them some basic principles of life that anchor on honesty.

Grab your copy and get other copies for your family, friends, and foes.

The author, Maxwell Onyemaechi Opia-Enwemuche can be reached by mail: maxxzymusdapoet@gmail.com

Opia-Enwemuche Maxwell Onyemaechi
08036992575,08170276371

My Heartbeat (A Poem)

My Heartbeat (A Poem)

There’re so many places to be
So many spots to visit
But I chose in between to be
I chose those two mountains to visit.

Smiles are innocuously contagious
Kisses can revive a dying soul
Your love towards me has made us
But your name have I etched in my soul.

New wines taste so good,
But the old ones can send you to sleep.
I will like to feel good,
But it will be better to fall asleep

I hope you feel my heartbeat
And feel yours too my dear.
Hear the syllabic sound of my heart beat
It beats with care MY-DEAR.

Maxwell O. Opia-Enwemuche
maxxzymusdapoet@gmail.com
(C) 29-01-2014
The mind is a wonderful treasure to waste. Develop yours!

Give Me More of It (A Poem)

Give Me More of It

(For my amiable wife)

Life is nothing without love

Full of resentment and sorrow.

Without sentiment, what prevails is love

It keeps us alive with a secured tomorrow.
 
I was created through the Love of God

In His love was I conceived and born.

Now I enjoy the love of the true God

His blessings shine upon me like the sun. 

The love of God flows through various channels

And now I can see it so glaring in your heart.

You’ve shown me your love without reserve

Now I sing gloriously with joy in my heart. 

Now, I come alive everyday with great

heatAnd I ask you, my sweetest heart, give me more of it.

There are many blessings that come with love.

Now I can see them because of your wonderful love…

©20-10-2013
Opia-Enwemuche Maxwell Onyemaechi
maxxzymusdapoet@gmail.com

Posted from WordPress for BlackBerry.

A Mind Beat (Reflections)

The world should not define who you are.
Who you are comes alive when you care…
Care to dig inside out to see the truth.

Live everyday of your life in happiness
And without grudge, go to bed happy everyday.
No matter the situation of life, show a little kindness
And you’ll be a blessing to somebody someday.

Speak life into everything around you.
Think good always that you may embrace good today.
Don’t force yourself on people who don’t like you
And you’ll see the greatness in you everyday.

Remain steadfast in God our creator
Stay connected always to please Him
Strive to be like the creator
And above all live your life to please HIM.
(Cf Ecclesiastes12:13)

(C)19-10-2013
Opia-Enwemuche Maxwell Onyemaechi
maxxzymusdapoet@gmail.com
23598DE2
@maxxzydapoet
The mind is a great treasure to waste. Develop it!

Posted from WordPress for BlackBerry.

The Beauty of Solitude (A Poem)

Who says that good things come easy?
Hard as they may seem, it’s always there.
Who says that you can’t become your dream?
Walk and think your dream
And you’ll sing your success story like fresh air.

The canaries sing their songs
Though loud and noisy, it tells their stories.
Termites build their termitarium with strength
Though messy as it may seem, it defines their existence.

There’s beauty everywhere even in solitude.
The world came into being from solitude
And man’s existence was a thought in solitude.
Now, I write quietly in solitude.

Who says that good things come easy?
Ask the gold and the crude oil about the word, ‘easy’
The world awaits my story
And it must speak loud into history.

In solitude i write without reserve
And I pray the beauty of Solitude be preserved.

(C)15-10-2013
Maxwell O. Opia-Enwemuche
maxxzymusdapoet@gmail.com

Hear My Cry, Oh Flower! (A Poem)

I can hear people screaming my name
Like the weaver bird singing songs of mockery.
When shall we get rid of this shame?
These lunatics must be curtailed with alacrity.

Sodom and Gomorrhea were minors,
But what I see everyday is horrible.
Fathers and grand fathers fight with minors
And the news from the Tabloids are incredible.

This time we must stand against evil
And speak with one voice.
The time has come to say no to this evil
And speak with facts without noise.

Must we act like apes?
We must stop this incessant rapes.
Say no to this monster
Join this fight for the girl child restoration.

Opia-Enwemuche Maxwell O.
maxxzymusdapoet@gmail.com
(C)06-09-2013
The mind is a great treasure to waste. Develop it!

Hear My Cry, Oh Flower!

I can hear people screaming my name
Like the weaver bird singing songs of mockery.
When shall we get rid of this shame?
These lunatics must be curtailed with alacrity.

Sodom and Gomorrhea were minors,
But what I see everyday is horrible.
Fathers and grand fathers fight with minors
And the news from the Tabloids are incredible.

This time we must stand against evil
And speak with one voice.
The time has come to say no to this evil
And speak with facts without noise.

Must we act like apes?
We must stop this incessant rapes.
Say no to this monster
Join this fight for the girl child restoration.

Opia-Enwemuche Maxwell O.
maxxzymusdapoet@gmail.com
(C)06-09-2013
The mind is a great treasure to waste. Develop it!

‪ Show Me Thy Heart (A Poem)

What’s wrong with imagination

That my heart wonders without limit?

When is this coming to be, oh vision!

I can see you even in your naked meat.

Caress my mine with this passion.

 

I stand like a statue, yet your feelings consume me.

Where goeth thou to please my soul?

Think of me that I may live forever.

Your heart is what I need to cure my fever

Come to me that we may hum our love song together.

Oh virgin of my heart! Come to me

The lusts of my youth come and consume me.
 
Like the snail, I walk into her heart.

Encapsulated, my love I dare to show…

Where would I keep my fragile heart

That the world may see our love snow?

Like the horn of a unicorn, show me thy heart.

 
Opia-Enwemuche Maxwell O.
14-09-2013

We are more than a just Tribe

Peace and piss may have similar sounds, but they mean different things. While the former signifies absolute tranquillity, a state of mind or place, the latter signifies chaos and a state of disorder. Also, peace is a careful thought out plan; piss is a spontaneous action – a kind of reaction to an ugly incident that needs to be corrected.
Humanity is not just a song, but a prayer answered to enable us leave together in peace without rancour and chaos. How is that possible if we see ourselves only from the selfish part of colour and not collectively as a whole? How do we live together as one when we wear hatred as a traditional regalia every day? We are humans and not aliens who thrive on green blood cells or yellow blood cells, but we survive on the same haemoglobins in different skin colours for a purpose. These were made the way they are for the purpose of balance and not for incessant upheavals where nations challenge nations in a show of supremacy and dominance.

Humanity is a puzzle and the earlier we understood that Wickedness Against Relationships (WAR) is the missing link and reason while we are torn apart, the better we begin to understand a way around this puzzle. If humanity did not just become but has an origin, then there should be a better way we can live together harmoniously. Even the human body has a way of healing after some form of attacks by shedding bad cells and regenerating weaker ones. This is mutual relationship and that is what we need to survive here on earth. We are not agents of genocides aimed at wiping out a particular race or tribe in order to enforce our supremacy. It is absolute madness when a man sees his neighbour who has lived in peace with him as threat to his survival. I know this goes beyond the surface, but something led to this. What is the struggle all about? Where do we go from here? Are we not tired of the incessant killings so far in the world? Are we not tired of trying to make a people to think in a certain way of life? This world may be plunged into chaos while in search of peace that remains elusive.

We are more than just a tribe, we are the missing puzzle to a unit we call humanity. How we place these pieces together to form a healthy unit is up to us as individuals to decipher. For individuals form the nucleus of the society and a part of this nucleus make decisions that affect a lot of humans locally and globally. These humans charged with these noble responsibilities to make laws and govern a group of people should have a humane heart to lead and not an ulterior motive to annihilate the smile and joy from humanity that keeps us together as one. This is very important because when the drums of war will be sounded, it will affect everybody. The old and the young, those who are healthy and those who are sick will not be spared either. The spirit of war has no respect for even a new born baby. This is the harsh reality and the sooner we begin to understand the true meaning of life that is when we begin to value it.

Coexistence has always been a major problem in population control and the need to establish dominance has also been a problem. This is not farfetched in a nation where other tribes are considered as minority and the ruling tribe exert dominance with the resources of the majority. This is another version of dictatorship buttered with hatred and disgust for the growth and expansion of other tribes. If you’re criticized as a leader any where in the world, the option available is to try and make amends in areas where there are short comings and not to try to silence criticism. Even a father will criticize his son or daughter if he or she is not doing well. The same is applicable to leadership and if this formula below is not followed, there may never be progress that is people oriented.

Bad governance + criticism + Reforms adopted = Better Governance

On the other hand if criticisms are arrested and gagged never to speak again, the resultant effect becomes a ripple effect of bad governance in all sectors of the economy. Remember today that we as humans wherever we find ourselves are acolyte of peace and not discomfort. If we bear this in mind, the world will definitely become a better place as we realize that We are more than a just Tribe.

Opia-Enwemuche Maxwell Onyemaechi
Author, Oracle of Isieke || Diary of a Keke Driver
©2019

About the Author

Maxwell Onyemaechi Opia-Enwemuche is an enigmatic poet, a master storyteller, and a novelist. He has to his credit, a novel, The Oracle of Isieke and a novella, the Diary of a Keke Driver. His works have appeared in WRR, Tuck Magazine, Mojave Heart Review, and other online platforms. His poem, The Change I desire Chapter 1 appeared in Citadel of Words 2018, a BPPC 2018 publication.


Wearing Memories

Wearing Memories

I hate sad memories,
but what can we do about them.
Nobody runs away from his shadow willingly,
but we wear these memories as garments.

I hate shaking hands with yesterday
to break kolanuts for requiems.
Who knows the story that comes to us
as we sojourn in this land of uncertainties?

I hate the music that sings tears
caressing my eyes to purge her fears.
How can we love this act of transition
when good people leave early?

I am a man wearing memories
knitted upon me like sad stories.
I am a man wearing dirges as necklaces;
searching for peace to explore places.

Opia-Enwemuche Maxwell Onyemaechi
©06-08-2019

Belief /bɪˈliːf/

Belief /bɪˈliːf/

I am not against your god,
but never desecrate my own God
& the beliefs I treasure now & always,
but let your antics appeal to your friends alone.

If you must drown in unbelief as a trend,
do not canvass for disciples as medals & trophies.
If you must speak about any religion,
show the world what you stand for without politics.

To be seen is not to be heard
& to be heard does not translate to a message.
We’re all Divine creatures seeking the meaning of a true existence
& if I have found mine before you, respect that.

If you don’t respect your beliefs,
don’t blame me if I hold mine in high esteem.
If my beliefs around God irritates you,
then humanity was never in you.

I am a true follower of Jesus Christ,
I believe He died for my sins & resurrected,
I believe in the power of His redemption,
I believe in the spirit of His Son ship (John 1:12).

This is my belief!
I am a product of His grace,
I am a child of God,
I am the image of His Divinity,
I am the manifestation of His greatness.

Opia-Enwemuche Maxwell Onyemaechi
©17-08-2019
Umuahia, Nigeria

I found my Childhood Again (1)

I found my Childhood Again (1)

No child should be deprived of his or her childhood for it forms a foundation that will be consulted in time to come.

It may be a phase that one would want to wish away, but no story or history about any mortal is complete without his or her childhood stories and memories. Little wonder why some folks will say, “I miss my childhood,” while others would say, “I really never had a childhood or my childhood was stolen.” There are other horrible versions of responses that spring up and one begins to wonder what is so special about the memories amassed in childhood.

A legendary pop king, Michael Jackson aka Wako Jacko once asked a question in his controversial song entitled, “Have you seen my childhood?” The lyrics presented some issues troubling his childhood. A verse of the lyric reads thus:
… Have you seen my Childhood?
I’m searching for that wonder in my youth
Like pirates in adventurous dreams,
Of conquest and kings on the throne…”Michael never wanted to grow old because he loved adventure and wanted to seek for that which he thought he had lost. However, what he failed to realize is that no matter how old one may appear, one can still shake hands with memories of ones childhood.

My name is Opia-Enwemuche Maxwell Onyemaechi and my childhood was super exciting and full of beautiful moments that will outlive a thousand life time if I tell of stories surrounding it. I grew up in many locations or cities across Nigeria by virtue of my late father’s nature of job. He was a highly decorated senior police officer from the old Bendel State extract. He sojourned in Nigeria across towns and cities to serve the nation, our father land and Enugu state happens to be one of the locations we lived and I enjoyed every bit of that town. The memories keep dancing back and front in my subconscious.

For the records, I lived at the 8-man Rank and File Police Barracks close to the Central Police Station (CPS) located at the present day Ridgeway Road off Bank Avenue in Enugu State, Nigeria.

Recently, I visited the state on an official assignment and decided to locate one of my childhood memories. Apart from that, I walked the traditional routes I normally take to school and the nostalgic feelings were something I am very proud about. Although the environment wore a different look with some places looking dilapidated while others were housing new structures, the mind on its own was painting pictures of old to wed them with the reality of time. I was happy I took this noble walk this time to feed my eyes and hug these beautiful memories of the past.

I left my old compound located at Ridgeway Road which used to be a home to a giant Iroko tree which no longer existed, but in its stead, a church has been erected at the location. My mother used to call that tree, “Ukwu egbu,” and I will never forget how big it appeared before my eyes as a child and the early morning drills of sweeping its defoliated leaves daily. I dare not forget the numerous activities that took place under this tree. I had a fight under this tree staged by one Ufuoma between myself and one John (not real name) in order to establish authority. My honour was given to me after I dealt with the young boy. More so, this shelter from this giant Iroko tree also hosted Otu Ifeoma Club which my mother belongs to.

Majority of the boys in that compound at Ridgeway Road attended the Market Road Primary School located at Ogui in Enugu state. It was very close to the magnificent Holy Ghost Cathedral which is a little distance away from the Ogbete Main Market where items of various kinds are sold on retail and wholesale basis.

In order to satisfy my curiosity, I decided to embark on the traditional long (?) walk from Ridgeway Road through Ogufere street to Abakiliki road and crossing to Market Road leading to my primary school at Market Road Primary School at Ogui. Our motto was Unity, Progress and Discipline. Punctuality was highly entrenched as at that time. I felt a little bit disappointed though because I could not gain entrance into the school to look at the football field that I was celebrated during my childhood and the classroom I was taught how to read and write in Igbo language. My love for story telling was also reinvigorated here. Market Road had the best teachers as at that time, but I doubt if these exploits are still there today. I remember vividly how hand craft works were emphasized and the need to get everyone involved. There was no excuse for anyone to quit because every mind has a talent of its own that must be accessed to the latter. The mind in deed is a gold mine and one needs to dig deep for the treasures within. In this place, we had mind explorers for the greater good of the individual.

The colour of my school at the time I attended was white shirt upon red short. I believe they still wear the same uniform till date. Such a wonderful uniform that makes the pupil stand out in the crowd because red represents the colour of blood which fuels the activities of the body and humanity at large.

I am so elated for seeing my primary school again after so many years I left. It was in deed good breathing the air of Coal City again. My humble and candid advice to parents is that they should not deprive their children of their childhood for they may never find it again if it was never there in the first place. I found my childhood again because I had the best of time while growing up and going for adventures like hunting, tree climbing, hiking and the likes of them. This should come as a fond of reminder to you wherever you are. When you remember your childhood, no matter how ugly it may seem, appreciate the good moments for some never had any to think about nor the opportunity to think about anything because it was long gone before they realized.

When you find your childhood again like myself, will you be gracious enough to share it with me?

Remember, our childhood are not mere memories, but garments we wear as we journey to the afterlife. Relish your fondest childhood memories and make them sparkle like fire crackers spreading joy.

Opia-Enwemuche Maxwell Onyemaechi

Author, Oracle of Isieke and Diary of a Keke Driver
Enugu, Nigeria
©16-09-2019

Information Alert

Information Alert

My name is Opia-Enwemuche Maxwell Onyemaechi. I am an author, a poet, a
short story writer, a teacher, an editor, a ghost writer, a peoples’ person, a humorist and a lover of God and African tradition.

~•You can download an e-copy of my debut novel, “The Oracle of
Isieke” from the link below for just a token of =N=800 and also recommend it to friends and family.

http://okadabooks.com/book/about/the_oracle_of_isieke/13500

~•You can also download this lovely e-book entitled; Diary of a Keke Driver for a token of =N=500. The beauty about this book is that it can be read anywhere after downloading it via the link below. It will challenge, inspire and educate you into becoming what you desire to be if you believe.

https://www.okadabooks.com/book/about/diary_of_a_keke_driver/20961

~•You can also download an e-copy of my single story for children
entitled, “The Stubborn Crayfish” with the link below at =N=75. This e-book will help you to understand the power of parental instructions and admonition.
https://okadabooks.com/search?term=The+Stubborn+Crayfish

~•You can also download a free e-copy of my single story for children
entitled, ” Who Stole my Sandals?” with the link. This free story will help you to understand the power of parental instructions and admonition.

https://okadabooks.com/book/about/who_stole_my_sandal_/11742

~• We all need love once in a while. You can download this e-book of mine of over 5,000 words entitled, Vanessa My Love, for free from the link below:

https://maxxzymusdapoetblog.wordpress.com/2019/06/11/free-e-book-alert-vanessa-my-love-2

You can follow me on twitter
@maxxzymusdapoet and like my Facebook page, Opia-Enwemuche Maxwell Onyemaechi.

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Old Soja no dey die!*

Old Soja no dey die!*

In the late 70’s and early 80’s, the craze for Peugeot vehicles were on the increase in my darling country, Nigeria. If you were akin with the trends of events then, you will know that owning a Peugeot pick up van, popularly called “aka nkita” in my local parlance, was a luxury on its own and it comes with some bragging rights. It was a multi purpose van meant strictly for business ranging from supplies of drinks and bread as well as conveying perishables to and from markets close by or even far away.

This pick up van on its own has a specific capacity, but it is often over stretched beyond capacity thereby leaving a history of stretch marks on it like on a woman who had bore various lives on earth. These stretch marks tell the stories of her pain, struggles and joy. This also cannot be separated from the history of the pick up van. We all do have our favorite story or rather stories about a pick up van. I will share mine with you and I hope to read yours real soon.

I grew up at various cities and towns and Ihiala, a town in Anambra state located in Nigeria was one of them. My location then was close to Abbot Boys College, a wonderful institution, which I doubt still maintain the level of excellence way back. I was in love with that school because of their uniform which was a white shirt on black shorts for junior students and trousers for senior. Little wonder I later went to Immaculate Conception College in the ancient city of Benin who also share similar uniform but I believe not the same motto. Well, this is a bit of digression from my story for today. Let me cut the chase and share my story.

I used to know a man way back who we referred to as papa Chibuike, I don’t know if he is still alive, who can pass a good entrepreneur in today’s business world. When papa Chibuike bought a pick up Peugeot van in Ihiala then, the environment wore garments of jubilation as drinks, biscuits and assorted meat arrived the neighborhood with speed of lightening as we joined in the celebration and thanksgiving. At first, I thought mama Chibuike has given birth to a girl child as the celebration of a girl child comes with its own ceremony. I was later informed of the real gist. I congratulated Chibuike and extended the same to the father when I visited. I was truly happy for my friend and his family. Little did I know that Chibuike will soon rub the status thing on my face when next I meet him. This did not go down well with me. I forgave him on a particular day, being the first time he made a silly comment on that, but he got the beating of his life on another day when he insulted my father of not having a Peugeot pick up van. I later told him that it is not the things we have that define us, but how we relate with people through the things we have. We are humans and need to learn new things by unlearning old and unhealthy ones. This is the heartbeat of humanity I learnt from my father who is also a friend to your father. My dad had connections with security agents and our area had a maximum security guards stationed 24 hours. He once told me that he will never use his position to intimidate a civilian. That is the heart of a humanist and I have come to know this and wished to grow with it. Chibuike saw reasons with me and turned a new leaf because he knew I spoke from my heart without mincing words nor trying to embellish them.

Papa Chibuike was into bread production and he had a successful business because of monopoly. He was the only baker in that environment while a lot of provision stores existed to sell complementary products like milk of various brands like peak, carnation and so on. Tea was as popular as well as bread. As far as these provisions are in place, papa Chibuike will be in business. He was up and doing until competition sets in. Although he had an initial challenge keeping up his business, he strive to improve on his ideas by rolling out varieties of bread ranging from sliced to flavored ones in order to still be in the business of bread production and distribution. He expanded his network yo as far as Onitsha and Owerri as I was told then. He also spent his time and energy in his bakery and soon Chibuike, my friend, joined him in the business. At a point I started following them to the bakery, but my knowledge was still at the budding stage before my dad was transferred to another state to serve the interest of the country in maintaining g peace and order of the nation.

I missed Chibuike my friend and his father and most importantly, I missed my childhood and my father.

Opia-enwemuche Maxwell Onyemaechi
Author, Oracle of Isieke and the Diary of a Keke Driver
©04-08-2019

Photo Credit: maxxzymusdapoet

*Old Soja no dey die! is a Nigerian 🇳🇬 pidgin English title which means an experience man in business no matter how old he or she maybe does not run out of ideas.

Picture shoot of an old Pick Up Van  by Opia-Enwemuche Maxwell Onyemaechi

Old Soja no dey Die!

Serenity /sɪˈrɛnɪti/

Serenity /sɪˈrɛnɪti/

Here am I sitting at my window,
observing the beauty of nature
With a deep furrow clapping on my eyebrows
As I stitch images amidst life’s fracture.

I am peace, many struggle to shake my hands
& wear my garment of tranquility.
Will I deny them a piece of my equanimity
& cause rancour to run frenzy in the land?

I observe nature with all pleasure
& smile in a state of quietude
As calmness becomes my music
Speaking hope to my nerve & nature.

Serenity becomes golden
& my heart beats with peace
Causing me to regain my poise
As I feed my elegant & charming eyes
From my balcony as the sun sets.

Serenity is life
Speaking wisdom &
Separating mediocrity
For a party of golden evening
Where feasting eyes meet singing.

My window, my view
My evening, so special beyond new.
Serenity is a silent revival
Maybe, just maybe, I am convivial.
Opia-Enwemuche Maxwell Onyemaechi

Author, The Oracle of Isieke
©15-07-2019
9:53pm (Nigerian Time)

Image credit: Brigitte Poirson

A window view from France by Brigitte Poirson_n