Ugochi Ugwuanyi's Blog

 

  Another menace has taken over our homes, Emeka oooo.  It is painful, worrisome, That we can no longer go out of our homes in peace And come back in one piece.  "But e no start today, Amaka" Emeka no be say e start today.  The question be say, at what rate?  Because no bad thing really start today, Shebi you dey hear me so?  E no start today,  Ngwanu tell me,  In the days past, don't we travel, return  With our only fear being car accident?  Then once once you fit dey pray God may you not meet arms robbers for road? But today wetin dey happen?  Kidnappers, Terrorists, In every nook and cranny of Nigeria.  Where don't you find them?  We still dey try fight the brutality of our leaders, Now this?  Nezianu Nsukka,  A land once synonymous with the word peace, But today a brother can't even visit another in a neighboring town.   If you no dey hear say dem dey don kidnap one person for Umabor, It would be th...

The stress, the struggle, the pain... The cost of just being a living being. A grown poor Nigerian human bent on surviving. On making ends meet without another being the meat On attempting to strive above the strife, Hustling legally,  It's not easy.  Odiro easy the times you have to show up against all odds.  To cheer up your neighbor while tears still trickle down your own eyes. To pick up your bag, your pen, your tools, To work, When all you want to do is just sit down and cry.  Odiro easy that afa gi bu Ujunwa , Yet you are only full but in grasia of hunger, Of sizzling lack and of heart-wrenching want. Odiro easy na ina aya na-aya nke ina aya , ebe gi n'ekwe. Hey sis, do you know your brother is sick?  Ka imaputa isi ebekwa ozo,  Ha! Imakwa na-ahu adiro mpa gi. And so in this way your life keep going, Ina adoni, Hoping that one day the story would change, It's not easy, I tell you!  It's not easy.  The times you have to wake up to cry, To ca...

  I saw a gleeful little girl on my way back from work on a Friday no different from every other Fridays. Her eyes glistened with ecstasy. And her mud-coloured skin shone in the dull shine of the evening sun. She should be about five or six; a harmless mommy's little lad.  She was chasing a bewildered, embattled hen with chicks . She teased them, hen and chicks; the cheerful smirk on her face telling of the great joy she derived from playing this almighty terror lord of the chickens. Little girl stroke hard every minute of the chase. At each strike of her foot on the ground, the hen flapped its wings; its red eyeballs darting, a " kookoookoo " sound in its throat, as it hits its tiny feet on the ground fleeing for its dear life, alongside that of its chicks.  But little girl was not alone. At the scene of this event were her Elders. Mother, father, and probably aunties. They were chatting, and from time to time, their eyes watched the little girl as she played around an...