 Ngozi Olivia Osuoha is a young Nigerian poet/ writer and a graduate of Estate Management. She has some experience in banking and broadcasting. She has published some works abroad in some foreign magazines in Ghana, Liberia, India and Canada, among others. She enjoys writing. TERROISM THE MIS-CREED OF RELIGION Bonded and yoked partisan Free, yet enslaved fanatic Flying a cursed route Treading a forbidden zone, Preaching a serpentine gospel Terrorism, the mis-creed of religion. Devoted and arrested 'religioner' Dedicated, committed enthusiast Ardent, faithful loyalist Ready, gallant spy Brave, deceitful viper Terrorism, mis-creed of religion. The oracle of missiles The brother of rockets, The priest of gun The saint of death The god of destruction Terrorism, mis-creed of religion. The son of torture The bread of war The signature of bombs The agreement of weapons, The revival of doom Terrorism, mis-creed of religion. Bulletproof his organ Virgins are worried, Tick tock, the blast Heaven is agog Let the merry begin, Terrorism, mis-creed of religion. The peak of righteousness Heritage divine, destiny fulfilled Baton of peace, marathon of light To God be the glory Onward, forward ever Terrorism, mis-creed of religion. JUNGLE JUSTICE A THORN IN THE HEART Yells, voices, clubs, crowd Condemnations, chants, choruses Harsh chase, fierce search Rods, irons, matchets, weapons Tyres, fuel, the rage to burn The anxiety to put to death Mobocracy, a thorn on humanity. Some not guilty nor proven Some either to be jailed or fined Some either cautioned or gainfully employed, Some not to die Some no evidence, mere speculation Some, a malicious rumour Some, envy, scandals and gossips A lot, no reasonable facts Hidden truths, undisclosed deals Unknown lies, a trail of vengeance Jungle justice, shadow of inhumanity. A common dish to strangers A dirty garment for visitors, A note of hate and bitterness Alien to love and unity Jungle justice, a barren field. Mobocracy, a cruel zeal A harsh treatment and intolerance A basin of soured dinner A tree of fruitless branches An epidemic, a xenophobia Jungle justice, injustice to mankind. Superstition and ignorance Tradition and culture Religion and belief Rivalry and opposition, Not too holy a mob Seizing, ceasing the hands of time Inflicting pain and perpertual agony, All, a box of rags Wisdom turns it a coat of many colours. Back, home the trauma boils Old parents go insane Hopeful siblings waiting a nurture Wretched home searching for pasture, Innocent family praying for future Relatives needing a gesture Community abhoring the vulture Mobocracy, the enemy of justice A thorn in the heart of the world. RAISE THE GIRL There is a star in her It must shine There is a land somewhere She will make fine, Needless being a concubine Help her reach there. If she dies young We would lose her song, If she goes mad We would feel sad So let us make her strong For us to live long And barnish wrong. Raise the girl, big Lest she turns a pig Burn not her wig Help her discover and dig Show her the gold Too, make her bold Warm her, not to be cold Teach the girl sanity Uphold her integrity Cherish her dignity, Raise the girl Raise the child, Lift the world.
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