I  once had a bitter quarrel with my brother

It was on account of our dear mother

For whom we held much love and sentiment.

Sad, beloved mummy had no knowledge

Nor would have approved our misplaced courage.

Both vexed we exchanged rash insults

Incensed we screamed out mean words

Over a stolen light can of mummy’s sauce.

Said I, big brother was selfish in taking before asking

In turn he called me impish for being over tasking

Swore I was a “rude rat” and great pain

Soon, harsh exchange drove me to violent tears

Pitiless big brother still punched my ears,

And like parody we came to slaps, scratches and blows.

First a bucket of frigid cold water

Doused irrational flames of temper

Then long blistering sermon followed rigid scolding

Mum scoffed her nose at our self righteous motives

Frowned her brows, hissed angry at desperate defences

Condemned duo grimly, called us misguided tedious

Worse, we erected her senseless discord’s monument!

“such division love driven is a contradiction most heinous”

Love is merciful, love is kind

Love will not destruction find

Nor conceive of injury in mind!

Our valiant folly mum rejected furious.

In that day I learnt life’s crucial lesson

Love shared in common is a reason for bonding,

Breeds tolerance, dispels prejudice, creates understanding.

To love mother and hate son is to love God and hate man

A paradox none doubtless.

No room for hatred in love is found.

But proud selfishness, and vain righteousness too often

Are mistaken as evidence of loves devotion


Today God is mans’ common denominator

We claim him our Lord, Master, Saviour.

We serve and love him in unique different ways

Indeed he watches over us all our days.

Without divine discrimination,

Sun and rain bestows generous upon all,

No matter ones careless disposition.

Saint and sinner, devout and heathen,

He permits all breath and spares early death.


A sore contradiction this hatred born from love,

Wicked destruction in masked guise of God’s summon.

Heralded by crimson woe, arrive acclaimed true servants

In ire over Almighty’s tolerance, rise in swift vengeance.

Bloody irony to defend Supreme power’s weakness.

Tin gods require mere mortals to fight their battles,

So we kill, maim and destroy God’s innocent creatures,

We mock, judge and condemn those more sincere righteous.

some wield weapons and bombs while chanting holy tenets

others cast blind labels as though they are blameless

‘Pseudo’, ‘fanatic’, ‘fundamentalist’, ‘true’ ‘deeper’

We condemn the mosques and abuse the churches

We frown on foreign worship calling our way better

Some shun peace, curse ‘Haram’ and vow no tolerance

Determined to cleanse all heathens and remain steadfast

Others use persuasion, trickery and false prophecies

spin wealth from threads of desperate yearnings.

God is not impressed by our vain vigilance

God has his angels and needs no errand boys!

 Written in protest of the ‘Boko Haram’ Islamic sectarian crisis in some Northern states in Nigeria, as well as incessant sectarian violence in nations  Of the middle east region of the world.




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