She Came to Town by Su’eddie Vershima Agema

He heard of her arrival
the billboards
shouted her to his face
in every place and direction
not enough, she seized signposts
covering milestones
travellers left wary of location
in the forceful paste of her plastic smile

She hugged trees
and adorned walls
her jingle on the radio the new herald of dawn
TVs took over
proclaiming her, the promise of sweet dreams at dusk

He died for her
selling all
till she came to town, sirens blaring—
Queen Mistress.
He thought himself her all
and ran to claim her
but found a long line waiting…
She smiled sweetly, melting them,
spoke lovely little nothings,
waved and left.

She came to town
and left,
still everywhere,
now everyone’s
but nowhere in any heart.

article-2651403-1E8C4B0B00000578-560_964x494 (1)
Josh Bakkum Source:

(From Home Equals Holes: Tale of an Exile, Makurdi: SEVHAGE, 2014)


All Honour for Fr J. D. O’Connell by Agatha Aduro

Today, I stand to salute a great man, whose greatness is bellowed by his utter humility. A priest, a teacher, a moulder of character. An Irish man, a priest of the other of St. Patrick’s Society – Very Rev. Fr. J. D. O’Connell, SPS, MFR.
After serving as a priest of Minna Diocese for 55yrs and school Principal for 50, Fr’s time in Nigeria is slowly coming to an end. It was therefore only apt that one of the many occasions in his honor be held today.
One day, I will write about this man. About his time at Government Secondary School Minna which is more correctly called Fr’s school – there is no higher honor than to be called Fr’s boy. A badge many wear with pride. His boys are legion; former governors, commissioners, lawmakers and even the legendary Cyril Stober. If you were a young boy in Minna and you were not in GSS, you were of all men, to be most pitied. And I perhaps may hold the distinction of being the only girl Fr wanted to offer admission to after it became an all-boys school – I mean, he had a complete plan of how I would sew the trademark gray trousers.
Remembering his stories of carrying wooden desks and chairs across River Kaduna to the hinter areas of Wushishi bring tears to my eyes.
Remembering his stories of disabling one headlight of his car so that the truant boys he was after, in the bush would not realize it was he, imagining it was a motorbike until he was upon them, bring laughter to my lips.
If you saw a school boy walking home in gray trousers but without a school shirt or with one leg of shoe, just know Fr was punishing him. Go home and explain to your parents why you went to school with shirt and came back without.
One day, I will write about this man, quietly dignified in the suffering that Parkisons brought him in this latter part of his stay. Determined to be completely self-reliant and hesitant to ask for help if he thought it was going to be a burden. Wanting to cause the least amount of disruption possible. One day, I will write about him, and it will break my heart.
Everyone in Niger feel an intense need to show this man how much he really means to us: from road walks to traditional titles. Today the Niger state government announced the re-naming of GSS Minna to Fr. J. D O’Connell Secondary School. That they may truly be Fr’s boys.
Fr O’Connell, much like the rest of us, doesn’t want to go. And when I say ‘Fr, don’t go’, he laughs. Because we both know that he is loyal to his vows, even to the last; Poverty. Abstinence. Obedience. Always Obedience.
It is the same laugh we get when he’s being stubborn about something. The same laugh we get when we say ‘Fr, you’re not sitting properly. Stand up and sit properly’. And he laughs, and stands up and attempts to fit his Parkinson-afflicted body properly into the chair. Or when we ask ‘Fr, have you been exercising?’ Always that laugh.
Jennifer and I are not in Minna at the moment so on Monday he called us to ask us our email addresses. On Tuesday, we both received mails with almost 30 pictures form the varioua activities going on now. Because Fr. O’Connell.
One day, I will write about this man. But today, let me say, here is a man who completely embodied his society’s motto: Caritas Christi Urget Nos; The love of Christ compels us.
Today, let me say ‘Here is a man, truly like Christ’. Here is a Man of God.

I’m afraid to tag all the Fr’s Boys on my Facebook friend list because this post will become a market! (That’s how we refer to GSS when we talk – Fr how was market today?) But I will. And if you are tagged and you believe Fr had any impact on your life, share on your wall and tag your friends! Heck, share this post on your blogs and everywhere else.

God bless Fr. O’Connell. God bless us all.


Posted in POETRY FROM THE WORLD, POL TALKS, Uncategorized

Pity The Nation – Kahlil Gibran

Pity the nation that is full of beliefs and empty of religion.
Pity the nation that acclaims the bully as hero,
and that deems the glittering conqueror bountiful.

Pity a nation that despises a passion in its dream,
yet submits in its awakening.

Pity the nation that raises not its voice
save when it walks in a funeral,hqdefault
boasts not except among its ruins,
and will rebel not save when its neck is laid
between the sword and the block.

Pity the nation whose statesman is a fox,
whose philosopher is a juggler,
and whose art is the art of patching and mimicking.

Pity the nation that welcomes its new ruler with trumpeting,
and farewells him with hooting,
only to welcome another with trumpeting again.




About Kahlil Gibrain

Kahlil Gibrain (1883-1931) is one of the world’s most popular and best selling poets of all times. He was a Lebanese-American poet, philosopher, artist and writer. His writings are deeply prophetic (he actually has a book titled The Prophet 🙂 ) and deep. Google his poetry and if you get the opportunity, buy and/or read his books. His words are transforming if you let them sink. Now, let’s end this with a quote from him:

You give but little when you give of your possessions. It is when you give of yourself that you truly give.



(after listening to a spoken word by daisy odey)

once, there was a storyteller
who created fires from sparks
who started each tale with ‘let there be’…
a teller of many intertwining tales
who told our universe to be
and in that space,
he killed the darkness, formed the light
filled everywhere, made it bright…

art painting fire surrealism Old man Teun Hocks Love|Crave Source

the teller decided to tell another tale
‘let there be…’
a dragged sentence that took nine sticks
and a rubbing of stones
the answer was a tiny spark…
that found movement in four ways…

four feet became two
as seconds multiplied minutes
that aged into years
the tale spiralled on, and formed extensions
that spanned decades through an existence
of much that left in some minds
a steady presence, in others an absence

this tale continued
a fire spreading
burning as it lit others
within, other tales made:
continuations that left everyone amazed…

till finally,
the fire quenched to smoke
the tale came to a halt
it lived on in others and became a narrative
one that continues to be
in a beauty everyone can see
but the fire was meant to be reborn
and so the storyteller…

…decided to add one more
like many other things
the voice said: ‘let there be…’
it was a long sentence that took nine sticks

a rubbing of stones
the answer was a tiny spark…

-©Su’eddie Vershima Agema, 2015.


Maybe, a tale for Someday

Maybe someday I will write that poem, of lives that mattered and lies that counted. Maybe, I will sing a song to show the beauty of the wrong that brought about this long tale that I call life. Maybe, then, it would not seem important enough, with time’s chime lost to the exigencies of what pressures that time would bring.
Maybe, you would be with me. Maybe, we would be free – of us – and chained with realities of others.
But that is for someday.
Today, let’s be us. And dance in the spirit of the fights and cuddles, the distance and closeness, the peace and troubles.
Today, let us love and build those memories for…someday.

  • Su’eddie Vershima Agema




WHEN MOODS COME… [THOUGHTS] – Su’eddie Vershima Agema

Who knows what this morning brought with it from yesterday?
Did one second at least bring a smile?
Hold on to it…and even if others force a frown for the times, let it go…just for a bit. Push it aside. There’s beauty deep within from which you can draw new lines to make you laugh.
What are the words of others?

Sometimes, truth.

Don’t let any harshness steal your joy. Meditate, let go of what doesn’t count..
Then make the rest of everything else do so.

Too many laughs depend on you… So, think of us. With love even as we follow slow steps to Orisa’s groves where we shall drink deep of your pools… and say soothing words to ease our souls of strain, and whatever pain might lie therein.






(P.S: Final stanza lines inspired by a poem by Agatha Aduro, bardest boo ever liveth. #hugs)



I just completed the poem, ‘Face of Heaven’.
I started writing the poem in church on Sunday. Yes, I did. The sermon was on the miracle at the wedding of Cana. I think there’s much we can pick from the Bible. There’s so much treasure within. I could preach on and on, but even if you wouldn’t believe, find peace there. But back to the poem…and the sermon.

I was touched. Love has many issues and sometimes, we carry burdens, worrying for those we love and…worrying for ourselves. Sometimes, we go through so much strife we wonder if it is worth it. Might be we get to that point where we forget the joys that once were the key things that got us going…

Truth is, I wanted to write a sad poem. But the lines kept changing. And soon, it flowed on. I tried to tweak it again, at some point and felt happy at my supposed success. After hearing much from friends and feeling bad with certain issues, I decided to post the poem. But looking at it, I began to wonder how people would feel when they read it; if it would bless them or break them. In the middle of everything, in some boil, I got to talk to Belle. After everything, I came back to my post here. Decided to rather bless, if I can.

Slowly, new words came, new stanzas. New ideas also came in that took the poem beyond love alone. It is lovely to see how the mind makes different things work. But I took time again and crafted diverse themes and thoughts. I shall restrict to its interpretation in the face of love. Now, in that light, I don’t know if I have done a good job but this poem here comes from my heart and is in the spirit of those ‘Note-To-Self’ pieces.

I believe in love but I know there is pain in it. Many times. Hasn’t it been compared to the sweet rose with its thorns? Still, don’t let any moment change you or make you lose hope. There’s beauty in us all. Even when you go through storms, even when doubt, anger, fear or worry comes in, love stands strong.

Find memory as your strength, work towards building every broken relationship, sustain those in their bloom while treasuring moments to use in the future when torments come and remember, love’s happiness and sorrow is worth every second.

It is hard…but worth it.

Good morning.

Posted in AWARDS, Uncategorized


Hey, how are you? I hope you are fine. Even if things are difficult, they will only get better. Trust me, I know. This is that season when there is so much pressure. You know, trying to make things right even as this tight economy makes you wonder if you are human. Money seems to be the new currency of laughter and happiness or isn’t it? No, it isn’t. It is necessary but pay attention; there are smiles you can plant to leave much more people happy. How? I don’t know. I am trying to find that one out too! Hee hee hee.

So, what is this post about?

I am learning to write. There’s this thing happening; I am retiring, don’t tell anyone. Well, don’t worry, it isn’t permanent. It is for the year 🙂 And…there’s a need for reinvention… but I am trying to plan something new for 2016 and I need your help.

You see, I want to give a gift out to you, and to me. No, don’t start sending me a list of your dreams… I will help you pray for them truly (what else can I do really? Hee hee hee)… but I can give you a gift with what I have; writing. Let me write you a story—or a poem. What would you want?

If you had the chance of me writing something for you or something you’d love, what would it be? Don’t worry, give all the specifics. You can write it here or send me a mail at

But let’s return to you… The year is coming to an end. It has been a fast year. I remember only last year when I was smiling into the skies at a carnival somewhere, surrounded by friends as we discussed literature. It is hard to believe it is the end of 2015. What did this year do to you? Are you prepared with new resolutions you wouldn’t keep? Hee hee hee! Start implementing them before tomorrow. Never leave till later what you can do now…

Now, have a lovely evening and night, when day comes, may it be lovelier. Things will smile definitely. Wherever you are, please, don’t lose hope and don’t lose faith. Dream more dreams and if you have a way of passing a compliment to someone, do so. We all need us. Go ahead, make a day brighter. May the times be kind.




PS: Don’t forget to send me the ideas and yes, we can collaborate! Yaaaay!

smile people

Here’s sending a special shout out to Subman – who has been dancing on my blog in cool steps. I am coming your way soon. Thanks to my big sis, Dotta Raphels, Williamleeone, Yemie, Damore (Me the blogger), Lefthandedscribbler,Debbie Iorliam, Aondosoo Labe, Melodic Rose, Topazo, DrSwag, Zika, and Belle, among all you others. You make this thing worth it. Thanks.





There’s been much to the heart of late. Makes you really wonder about a lot of things. Society’s position on a lot of issues and the like. You see transformations, manipulations and you just keep wondering. Did you hear that by 2025 or so, robots would be brought to replace men in sex? Have you seen all the ways we humans have kept distorting ourselves trying to find meaning in new skins, turning back, proclaiming what we think we know then renouncing it the next day?

Friendship seems to be losing its meaning. Even love. Even relationships. Makes one wonder where the family unit is heading to. Can more than two people exist in one whole? What then is the sacredness of the union of two souls? If two soul mates have found each other, why don’t they just reach out, damn the consequences and hold on to each other? Where is sacrifice? How come people now only find the easy way out in everything including emotions?

Life is getting shorter and more and more, obituaries—individual and collective—become more popular with our sights beholding new posters and/or pictures. Too much is happening at the same time and it just leaves you wondering…

I have kept trying to redefine myself and to understand much, especially in these past days. I have had to make decisions and I am still making decisions. I believe in the sacredness of marriage, of trust, of family, of friendship and of a couple alone together. Does this make me to be of a world that no longer exists?

Maybe. Maybe not.

There’s loyalty and there’s much that we have to fight for. There’s also our personal persons, fulfilling our purpose and making each second count.

Let’s make this world a better place again and regain values that always make each moment worth it. Be bold and take decisions.

Importantly, be true to yourself.


  • Su’eddie Vershima Agema

A Poem’s First Steps by Su’eddie Vershima Agema

A poem starts with a decision…to let one’s heart flow to paper…a bold step to share of the gift of heaven.
You throw fear of rejection and impurities aside then hug courage as you step forward to tell waiting ears of something you are only learning. ..

The bold step…

Stepping forward:

Let your verse flow.