SHE NEEDS A PEN NOT A PENIS. (A call against girl child marriage)

She needs a pen not a penis.

She needs a text book not a conjugal bed.

She needs the classroom not the labour room.

She is a child too young to have a child.

Her biological composition is not ripe for womanhood.

 Her mentality not matured for parenthood.

Her physical strength not strong for a house wife.

She is a child not a bride.

You consider her consent irrelevant.

Her opinion does not count.

Her future dreams is been shattered.

Her economic contribution to the nation has been hampered.

All by a wicked system with no justification.

Oppressing the helpless and most vulnerable.

You should care for her education not your ejaculation.

She needs fatherly direction not husband’s erection.

By

Bijimi Daniel Meindous.

THE UNFOURTUNATE TREE.

Its economic importance is very high.

Expensive it is and not easily found.

Where it’s found is highly privilege.

Its financial benefit can upgrade its owner.

With all these virtues this tree is been deserted.

The rain has refused to fall on it.

Yet the owner will not water it.

The sun has also not been of help.

The soil has refused coming to its aid.

The little minerals it tries absorbing has been denied

Refusal has been the word it hears mostly.

And sadness has been its mood always.

It struggles hard for survival.

The wind might blow him little hope.

But a farmer who knows its importance is coming.

And will show the tree love like never before.

By

Bijimi Daniel Meindous

DEATH! WHAT HAVE WE DONE?

Death the invisible one that can never be seen.

Death the unbeatable one that can never be defeated.

Death the worst thief that can never be caught.

Death the one that steals nice people but nothing can be stolen from him.

Is it because you have no parents that you take others parents?

Is it because you have no children that you take others children?

Is it because you have no relatives that you take others relatives?

Is it because you have no friends that you take others friends?

Death the over comer that can never be overcome.

Death the conqueror that cannot be conquered.

Death the persecutor that cannot be persecuted.

Death the killer that cannot be killed.

Death a cross everyone must carry.

Death a destiny everyone must reach.

Death a cup everyone must drink.

Death an inevitable debt everyone must pay.

Death where am I safe? Where is my refuge?

Not even in my mother’s womb.

I tremble at your footsteps.

You open wide your mouth awaiting my downfall.

Death my mortal enemy.

Death my worst weakness.

But why were you ever created?

Why not life? Life forever.

Death the final end of one’s life.

But the beginning of another new life.

As one dies he only transforms to the new life.

Death just a rite of passage.

By

Bijimi Daniel Meindous.

MY LADY IDOL

A face brighter than the moon.

A well structured body that draws every eye.

A mellifluous voice that can break a curse.

A smile that is better than the air I breathe.

Is the least qualities found in her.

Well cultured and mannered.

An immaculate creature indeed she is.

Where beauty is an understatement to be used.

Her name itself has a healing power to my soul.

I call it much more than the number of stars.

Impatiently, I wait for her arrival.

A ghost footsteps I can hear while expecting her.

BORN IN A NEW WORLD.

One is born a fool by himself.

Not as a baby but a baby adult.

By an invisible mother that lives within.

When longing for someone takes the better of him

Sillier his actions are than a lamb.

Good sense of judgement is declined.

Objective Reasoning seems absurd to him.

His good sense of judgement now is retarded.

He has been born in a new world.

Where fallacies have taken over reality 

That desire makes him remember his name hardly.

Indeed when a man falls in love, behold a fool is born.

By

Bijimi Daniel Meindous

AN ODD TO A COMRADE.

Concern and sacrifice I call her.

Always being the mother hen.

Can throw her glass cup to save mine.

 A soft heart that out large an ocean.

Her name describes her lovely.

Indeed lovely.

Will make a good companion surely.

Her partner I will call lucky.

Dust worships her steps.

With curved legs that perfects her.

Watching her walk is better than eating.

Happy to always count on her.

Will commend her to keep on.

With her angelic character.

Will gladly be her associate.

With no reserve in me.

By

Bijimi Daniel Meindous

MY AFRICA, MY CULTURE.

The perfect existence of nature.

With attractive pasture.

Stainless with no mixture.

A wonderful creature.

My culture, my treasure.

This is beyond measure.

I think of it with pleasure.

Always in my leisure.

My culture I now find obscure.

Very sick with no cure.

Haphazard with no procedure.

A pain I find hard to endure.

Deformed now is our posture.

The hand work of the white vulture.

I implore you, let’s be mature.

Stop copying, let’s create our picture.

By

Bijimi Daniel Meindous.