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Samuel Nze

What Exactly is Faith?

What exactly is faith?
Faith is like talking first
And paying attention later;
You assert what you don't see
And then remonstrate for
Not seeing it.

What exactly is faith?
Faith is like acting first
And explaining later;
You do what seems irrational
And then justify
Your doing it.

What exactly is faith?
Faith is like laughing first
And brooding later;
You rejoice at an aspiration
And then trust
That it will come about.

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As the Dawn Comes.

As the dawn comes
I remember what mama used to say
You are a man
Never you forget
The truth is that we lose our identity
As we chase the wind
I ask myself again
What my lot here is
One day I will die
What legacy will I leave then?
The truth is that we lose our identity
As we chase the wind
It has been said that
Being siblings is like waking in one room
In the morning each finds
His own way
The truth is that we lose our identity
As we chase the wind
Even saints tell their Lord
Let no human tie however dear

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Song And Dance

Till dusk tomorrow
You play your lute;
Birds above your head
Supply needed chorus.

The wind punctuates the stanzas,
Happy melody and relief;
The calm rippling is
In your chest.

Pipe and reed
Supplement percussion;
Sekere and gong,
Added audiophones alluring.

Sing in synchronization,
Sombre symphony;
Mild and mellow,
Graceful and neat.

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They Thought I Was A Thief Too

They thought I was a thief too
Get those handcuffs jiffily
Let us brace him
How I quaked!

In terror we pray
Gnash our teeth
Our knees knock,
Our hearts resigned to fate.

It was my voice and identification
That affected my release
I was simply lucky
One of them knew me.

In terror we pray
Gnash our teeth
Our knees knock,
Our hearts resigned to fate.

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Despair Is A Mad Man

Your thoughts are not too heavy for your heart
It is only foolery that makes it seem so
You think till you are hot
And then say you are sick
You cry in shameless misery
And lament your fate
Why me becomes a ballad
And you call the tune till tears drop
Despair is a mad man
Yet you befriend him
He goes causing a nuisance
But you seek him
Insanity has no friend they say
Still you go near to become mad as well
You go looking long and hard for gloom
If you are not mad, then you must be a fool
You do not pray
Nor invoke celestial beings
You do not sing
Nor chase dolour from your soul

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Poverty is not a Calling

Poverty is not a calling,
Even if the priests think it is.
Poverty is a distraction,
The intellectual must think it so.

Think of the books you could have bought
Had you had money,
Or the food you may have eaten
In a posh hotel.

You soak garri in water
And wipe your mouth,
Then put on a fine shirt
So no one will know.

You are a lie - you know you want more;
Chicken dipped in sauce
And maybe some wine too,
But you cannot afford it.

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My Struggle is to be a Man

My struggle is to be a man
In every respect.
A man is not simply
The owner of a rod,
Even if that is a criterion;
Women adore that rod
And use it against themselves
In sadistically pleasing pain;
They moan yet are happy,
They cry yet insist on more -
A woman will always love a man.

My struggle is to be a man
In every respect.
A man is not simply
A successful worker,
Even if that is an ambition;
Some men are slaves
And earn a keep washing pants on Sundays
In shameless smugness;

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Shadows In An African Jungle.

You say I walk faster than my shadow
And why not
There are too many shadows in Africa
Gloom, defeat, despair
All are in me
But I must transcend them
I must be what I must.
To the African jungle
White enslavers came with gun powder
To shoot me down if I ran
Like a monkey.
I was to go with them in chains
To the Americas.
I was to work their farms
I was to die if I fell sick.
The row-row water turned my belly
In big ocean-going vessels.
I was told to hush hush
Even when I would cry aloud.
When I got to America

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