Ink15 is a Creative Platform that encompasses all genres of writing and creative art (fashion, photography, painting, literature etc).
Open your ink jars, allow your creativity to flow, to spill over into the pages of your thoughts, of your worlds…close your eyes, open your minds and imagine the impossible
Ink15 — Imagine the Impossible
by Stephen Omon Ehikioya “It wasn’t raining when Noah built the ark.” Howard Ruff When Mr Ogbeh, Nigeria Minister of Agriculture speaks, I get frontal headache. Nigeria is the 6th world producer of cashew nuts and the worldwide trade is in the region of $2billion dollars. Like every other blessings like crude oil, Nigeria is not… Continue reading Ogbeh
I have read and seen many Nigerians who argue that things are bad in Nigeria.. .that police and law enforcement agencies break the laws and infringe on our human rights, I have seen many of them supporting Kemi’s continual detention.
I must confess that I care very little about Kemi, but I care about justice…justice for all…justice for my enemies…because that is only when I can be rest assured that there is justice for me and my kin.
I believe that one of the major cause of Nigerian problems and the black man in general, is that we are too short sighted to see into the future the consequences of our actions today.
As a kid growing up, I remember how a relative would send me or any of my siblings to go buy the very cane that would be used on us. I remember being beating with slippers, getting knocked on my head in the middle of the road. I can still hear that radio-like “wiiiiii” sound of well delivered slap…it’s a miracle I didn’t go deaf, or suffer any major bodily injury.
Our lives are filled with issues, we are miserable and we feel helpless to tackle the issues. Hence to forget our miserableness, we remove our eyes from helplessness and go looking for flaws in others and try to convert them to our miserableness. Where was religion during the Slavery Trade, during colonialization, during the inquisition, during the caste system? Religion was silent in the face of these evil and in some cases enabled these evil. A gay person has done no evil to us by virtue of being gay. The gay person that we beat up today may be the only person with enough courage to stand up for us in the face of injustice.
True happiness cannot be bought, but can be borrowed from the subtle chortles of childhood and humble beginnings.
Tears are potholes from which pain leaves our soul and healing comes, and know that even men also cries.
Laughter can be lovely if you listen to the sounds of joy, and it comes from beauties mundane
“Our crowns have been bought and paid for. All we have to do is to put them on our heads.”
— James Baldwin
If you are poor, its your fault.
If you are poor and want to be rich, all you need to do is think like a wealthy person and do what rich, wealthy people do. Wealthy people think differently, they do the things we don’t want to do. That dare. Now, this thinking and doing must spring from the mind, the real battle ground.
Our politicians believe that we are fools, we are but puppets to the master puppeteer being them..and they know the right strings to pull to get us dancing to their tones. Isn’t it about time we proved them wrong. Isn’t it about time we took our destiny in our hands..because while we haul insults and injury upon one another here for their sakes, while we go to the market and cry that our few thousands cannot purchase anything anymore, while we worry about our jobs in this Buhari’s economy, while we walk the streets looking for jobs, looking for forex, looking for redemption…I can assure you that Buhari, Gej and co are in a close door meeting having a great laugh at our expense.
Chukwudi Okoye’s anthology of poems is steeply didactic. A greater portion of it is also retrospective, Eurocentric, and, in some lines, pantheistic; although, the breath of metaphor conjures up a panoply of imagery plumbing deep the African core. In his book, one finds the “Niger” and the “frogs”; the “broken bamboo” and “black columns of ants”; “flutes” that are “urged to speak”, and “palm fruits ripe with fear”; “divine secrets from stones”, “sorrowful psalms of birds”, and “the rustling anguish of falling leaves”.
There is an Igbo adage that says: “Ihe ojo gba afo, oburu omenana.” Loosely translated to “When an evil practice comes of age or is entrenched in a society, it becomes a Tradition.”
Since yesterday I have been seeing colourful and fun fared pictures of the burial of the Nigerian man that was executed in Indonesia. A man who moved drugs, and who had amassed wealth, mansions and honour for himself through this trade. It baffles me that a criminal with no conscience..a criminal that sold hard drugs that destroy lives, drugs that kill…is now being celebrated all because he had money.
I know how it appears, we have very little drug addicts here in Nigeria.. We have seen little to nothing of the influence of hard drugs..its destructive nature on both the user, the family, friends and unsuspecting strangers who come in contact with the user…we have seen little or nothing of the havoc drugs cause on a society. Many black neighbourhoods in USA is like Bornu, is like Syria..where bodies are dropped everyday because of niggars trying to sell or use drugs.
Yesterday I saw a hopping bird wobbling in its bones — a baby bird so to speak. It looked fragile as birds of those species look, with bones so soft that one could easily crush it with very little effort. It was hopping about my compound, unable to fly away…like one trapped within the confines of this imperfect world. Its mother lurked around the branches of a nearby tree urging its baby on, but its wings were small and weak, and could only lift it above a few centimetres before gravity pulled it again and again to the centre of the earth…and it fell and hopped, and hopped and fell….its occasional twitter filled my human heart with compassion.