*you can watch my second performance on my youtube channel:


and in shackles, their hands and legs were in

the trans-atlantic trade is what they called her his-story

this is a story of the artfulness of neo-colonialism insinuation,

this is a poem by verse writer of black men and women cramped up in boats and given food that gave them constipation,

this is a song with echoes of fela kuti, thomas sankara and kwame nkrumah that still retells itself,

because our Africa, our Nigeria, is still at the bottom of book shelves ,

she still yearns to resist the forces of a new capitalist imperialism

and the thrust from the womb of neo-colonialism


the social enemies of poverty, illiteracy and hunger are winning the war

this is brought to you by means of:

economic penetration

wait, there’s more

cultural assimilation

ideological domination

psychological infiltration


the shackles are in our minds and they are reluctant to cut their umbilical chords ,

the stereotypes, the status quo, the obstacles, the challenges ,that emerged from imperialist mothers of:

‘you are too young to be a business lord’

‘and woman, remember frailty is your name

the creator made you the weaker being so you should never aspire to inspire

and follow the leader because the childhood song said so’

‘and man, you are biologically predisposed to be strong so never(ever) be vulnerable -chest that pain!’

‘and child: the system is designed for you to succeed so make sure you keep that tunnel visioned mindset-it will save you’


and they thought they took our pride

by changing our names to numbers.




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