Poetry is not the reason I write my love to you.

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I was going about my business when I heard a nightingale sing,
Dropped everything and came to join in the praise and worship,
To worship He who created she who opens her mouth;
To stir and whip up a storm of love rivers running through my being,
Love for the beauty of poetry is not the reason I write my love to you,
My love for rhyme is not the reason that I write this poem for you,
Sweet poetic prose is not the reason,
Melodious rhyme is not the reason that I recite this love ballad for you,
For out of a sudden my love for any other thing but God,
Is diminished and pales in comparison to my love for you,
I offer my heart stripped and bare to you,
Literature is not the reason that I plan to serenade you,
The reason is love,
The one you draw me to,
And until you reciprocate or retaliate,
I'll bask in the dangerously soothing fires of your love!

Brussels © November 2014 afesehngwaHilary

The revolutionary ghost of Thomas Isidore Noël Sankara!

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I was eight years old. The day was October 15, 1987. I can still remember that there was a palpable sense of loss to the African continent that made no sense to me at the time. There was an unmistakable sadness and even tears in the streets and some homes. As I grew older and became more aware of the issues which enmesh the continent of Africa, the magnitude and enormity of that loss became clearer to me. As I watched him and read about him and followed his life, I was drawn to learn and to know more about this controversial yet iconic leader called Thomas Isidore Noël Sankara. An imperfect man, a rare ilk of men, whom like us all could have many aspects of his life and leadership questioned but he stepped out and stood out from the crowd of lookalikes on these two: love of country and hatred for corruption. His patriotism is undeniable and uncommon, his integrity and love for his people and country backed by the simple life he lived and a believe that his country like all African countries has what it takes to offset the backwardness from years of colonialism. He was a visionary, a leader with a back bone, exuberant in his youth, and fearless in the exposition and pursuit of his ideals whether before God, countrymen, citizens of the world or other presidents irrespective of whether they were from the North, South, East or the West. Sankara was a gift that was brutally taken away before he could be fully unparceled. He was a rare gem who came to his people packaged as a man of dedicated simplicity, so simple his true value can be easily and deceptively misconstrued. Thomas Sankara like all true revolutionaries was liked by some, questioned by many, hated by others and fatally betrayed by one.


His chief betrayer was his best friend and second in command, a puppet to the west who, consumed by his own ambition, mocked friendship, steeled his nerves, stabbed trust and loyalty in the heart and killed his friend and boss. For 27 years he has lived with the ensuing and brewing consequences of his actions. Blaise Compaore, deluded by his personality cult, with his own hands has poured the fuel and struck the match which ends his reign. Two weeks after the anniversary of Sankara's death, his ghost shows up, stoking the revolutionary embers which lay in wait since his death, enveloping the spirit which now sees the people of Burkina Faso say enough is enough... when you spit at the wind you spit at your face... the people of Burkina Faso got tired of being endlessly kicked around by Blaise Compaore's boots and books of oppression, they grew wearily tired of living by the sea and washing their hands with spittle. Blaise Compaore is given a little taste of his own medicine sprinkled and steeped in grace as his life is spared. The people of Burkina Faso rise up in kindred spirit to identify with the man who said "It took the madmen of yesterday for us to be able to act with extreme clarity today. I want to be one of those madmen. We must dare to invent the future." - Thomas Sankara. You can watch "Thomas Sankara: The Upright Man" here:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J5USbA701SI

It was Robert F Kennedy who said: “Few will have the greatness to bend history itself, but each of us can work to change a small portion of events. It is from numberless diverse acts of courage and belief that human history is shaped. Each time a man stands up for an ideal, or acts to improve the lot of others, or strikes out against injustice, he sends forth a tiny ripple of hope, and crossing each other from a million different centers of energy and daring those ripples build a current which can sweep down the mightiest walls of oppression and resistance.” Today many Burkinabes strike out against injustice, and send forth many tiny ripples of hope, crossing each other from a million different centers of energy and daring to build a current which is sweeping down the mightiest walls of oppression and resistance in Burkina Faso. 

God bless Burkina Faso... Long live Burkina Faso and may it become and transform into a land of learning, excellence, growth and sustained prosperity.

Brussels © October 2014 afesehngwaHilary

The NOs which made me grow!

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It was the first NO,
Then the second, third, fourth NO,
Successive loud resounding NOs,
So many I lost count of all the NOs,
They were not walls that made it impossible for me to grow,
They were nature's compass to re-calibrate me towards paths I didn't know,
I sank and sank and sank and dug deeper and deeper until I hit rock bottom low,
It was my only chance to ever hit those precious treasures buried very low,
When I let the failures go I could see where I needed to go,
Away from countless many foes,
Bringing a welcome fluidity to my flow,
Every once in a while there was an unwelcome snow,
Which made me go a little slow,
But no matter what I kept going so I always had some progress to show,
Through adversity I learned to deal better with all the curve balls nature's bound to throw,
Every once in a while I knew the exhilarating joy of rising like yeast laden dough,
And somehow on these redirected paths I met my beau,
In the heat of the moments I didn't know the NOs came to make me grow,
So focused on the disappointing pain I was not open to know,
Thankfully I found the grace to tell the distracting despair No,
Maybe this is your season of NOs,
And they make you very low,
Remember that sometimes to mine the precious gems we need to dig very low.

Brussels © October 2014 afesehngwaHilary

Child of the ghetto!

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Child of the ghetto,

Deft with the stiletto,

Picking his humanity from the drains,

Bound by invisible heavy chains,

Drugs, rape, violence, gangsterism,

Target of a psychic militarism,

Tired of the stigma,

Mired in endless drama,

Determined not to be a victim,

He became broken,

Embraced the love which came with a pricey tagged token,

If he had never been broken,

He could not be mended,

For he had been too bended,

Evil easily blended,

He was drowning,

This is no clowning,

Drowning men don't save themselves,

An angel unexpectedly showed up,
In human mentoring form,

Holding the key,

To his brand new person,

He gave it to him in person,

It was no easy walk,

It was harder than cheap talk,

He engaged the new journey,

Obeying every engagement rule,

Tempted to be stubborn like a mule,

He hooked up to the those who know the path,

And began to learn science and math,

Like the butterfly from the caterpillar,

A gentleman emerges,

As the ghetto dies in him,

He is now headed for beyond the stars,

This can be your story,

But you must acknowledge the problem,

You are like a patient,

And wouldn't get help if you don't find a doctor,

The medicine might be terrible,

Depending on how bad you want your cure,

You will be ready to endure. 

Brussels © October 2014 afesehngwaHilary

Hows and whys that deepen the mystery and invite a confusing fog!

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Why? and How? are both wings of the innovative shuttle that has been ridden by individuals and corporations to new horizons of concretized possibilities, to realities thought once upon a time to be only a pipe dream in the figment of the imagination. From the simple question why? how? the genius of innovation has been known countless times to have sprung to life and ideas which have forever changed the course of man have been pursued to reality on the wings of those 2 simple questions.

However I am almost sure to assert that there are also times when each and every one of us who cares to ponder the difficult questions of life, has been trapped face to face with and asking gargantuan WHYs? and HOWs?... each one of them pregnant with countless little whys? and hows? There are certain whys and hows which draw us in only to deepen the mystery around a given circumstance and cast an overhead fog of confusion. Those moments when you ponder that senseless loss of youthful life, cut short at its prime and wonder why? how did it all happen? Those moments when your hard work only seems to be rewarded in diminishing returns and you seem punished for your best efforts… those times when you try so hard and yet fail so bad… those moments when you are desperately looking for a child and have explored all avenues to no avail only to look around and find little boys and girls conceive from casual sex and abort the same babies you so direly seek and desire… those days when loneliness strikes its worst blow and it looks like that companion, husband or wife will never show up… those waits that look like an eternity… waiting for that dream job, for that scholarship, for that visa, for the business venture to pick up, for that loved one to be healed, for that forgiveness, for that joy, for that nameless breakthrough… those waits which feel like a whole eternity in bondage… those days when heaven appears non existent and God might as well have absconded or abdicated his throne… those days when your health suddenly begins to fail without any warning… you wonder why you are here? why you are chasing those dreams? why you are in love? why you feel so helpless? why your flesh is so weak when the mind is so willing? those days, and moments and circumstances which force you to ask why? why? why? how did it came about? How? how?... and every time you ask you are greeted with a resounding dark, grim, overpowering, and frightfully paralyzing silence which ushers in only more questions, more mystery, more confusion… Those moments that humble you and remind you that you are not in as much control as you have deluded yourself to think you are for no one, no one, I mean no one can say with certainty that tomorrow they will be here…so the million dollar question is why worry? why bother? the question is why?

Sometimes it makes all the difference in the world to toss the question on its head and add a little ‘not’ at the end of it… why not? How not? For me in those times I can only find the consolation to salve my sanity as I continue to probe in the reassurance that I have a God for whom it is more important to Him that I know Him more intimately in those times than any answers to any questions I might ask… sometimes it is enough to know that He is there, through it all.. Next time you ask why? also ask why not? Next time you ask how, also ask how not?

Brussels © October 2014 afesehngwaHilary

Your love is true!

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I am not drunk with any emotional high,

My reason not clouded by raw unanchored feelings,

I am busy doing what I really love,

Yet I still manage to take a break from it to think of you,

You open your mouth to sing and the birds go hush to listen,

When you smile, 

Darkness hides and the moon retreats as an unworthy competitor,

You walk and all the cats protest in jealous rage at your grace,

A sweet smelling fragrance erupts from your fragile self,

Wafts like an attractive force around the globe,

From the perfect strivings of your imperfect self,

You love's shows up like the earth,

Through the seasons,

Through the bite and sting of winter cold,

And the scathing heat of summer days,

Through the beauty and nakedness of Fall,

Through the freshness and bloom of springtime,

Through countless repeated daily cycles,

Cycles of daylight when the sun shows up in brilliant splendor,

Retreats to hide its beauty and its warmth,

And night time takes over enveloping all with darkness,

Your love is truly ever present,

Through stormy days,

Through rainbow days,

Like the earth your love is always there,

... always there, always here and always there... 

In one form or the other,

Battered maybe, flickering maybe, struggling maybe,

Patched maybe, gasping for second wind maybe but always there,

Always here, Ever present...

Your love is true,
So true it makes me question the verity of mine,

And it is always a gift from you to me,

So strong it makes my best "thank you" the weakest phrase!

Brussels © October 2014 afesehngwaHilary

The Agonizing Pain and Hopeful Gaze of Mother Africa!

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Mama painfully agonizes over history and now,

Gazes into countless tomorrows with anticipatory hope,
Oh the pain of mama Africa,
The pain of a mother,
Who has gone through labor after labor,Birth pangs after birth pangs,Only to see all the children she suckled,
Suckled and nursed with undying motherly love,With scant exception turn into rogue states ,The pain of a mother seeing once brightly hopeful children turned awry,
All the pain in hell could not make up her sum,

But like a true African mother,
There is no quenching of her love,
No extinguishing of her hope,
No ceasing in her prayers,
And as the future beckons still,
She prays:
That these children will realize,
That they might have gone too far down the wrong road,
But the way back is still open and they can re-calibrate their tracks,
She prays, That the mighty God will set and direct their steps on the right path,
That they be endowed with a rare spirit of sacrifice,
And compassion and love for one another,
That they will not be imbued with that uncommon apathy,
That nonchalance in the apathy which plagues the land,
That they will be sewn together with an uncommon empathy,
That empathy which takes selfishness to task and suffocates its paralyzing grip,
She prays,
For the strength to strangle corruption, nepotism and all the viral isms,
She prays,
That a better tomorrow will soon come,
That all who call themselves sons and daughters of the soil,
Will assume responsibility to lead the changes,
And have a committed stake in the affairs that will bring the countries,
And the continent as a whole a little closer every day,
To the pill that will heal the bleeding on her aching heart,
To prosperity which will restore mama Africa's dislocated smile,

So until we take up and face these lofty challenges in one form or another,
In ways big and small, from near or from afar,
We can be sure to a right to only one thing:
As far as the continent’s woes are concerned - shut up,
For willingness alone will not do,Ability alone will not do,Procrastination will not do,
Just take them on in concrete actions,
One action at a time,
For one of mankind's purest joys is that of overcoming,
Through unfathomable odds!

Brussels © October 2014 afesehngwaHilary