Every night, under the intent gaze of the tender moon
sitting gloriously in the sky,
with a multitude of stars swarming at his feet,
at the end of the long row of weary houses on the dark street,
under the illumination of the streetlight, I usually sit,
my pen grasped in my hand, and my book sprawled helplessly
on my lap, as my buttocks embrace the dusty floor.
It is quiet here.
The chorus of the dancing maiden
under the Iroko tree yards away, the croaky voice
of Baba Agba narrating the exploits of the tortoise
to the young, inquisitive ears that encircled him,
the discordant shouts of the men at the Suya Joint
arguing about sports and politics, and the mellifluous
voice of a newscaster resounding from a radio
on some widow’s doorstep yards away:
they all blend into a resounding silence here.
Here, I feel alone, secluded from the world that
terrifies me – the world it is where potbellied loafers
swoop down like hungry hawks on the fruits of others’
sweat and grime, where the saintly fellows that deliver
saintly sermons at pious pulpits have hands stained with
unsaintly acts, where sugarcoated promises end up
getting eaten by ants, where the law upholders
help the law breakers escape the crunching jaws
of the law – I am secluded from that world, and here,
I can create a world – a world I can call mine –
just with my pen and book. In this world, I can
reciprocate every act with its rightful due. There,
I can tamper justice – poetic justice – with or without
mercy to the inhabitants of my world that I rule upon.
Muheez Olawale
Muheez Olawale is an adroit Nigerian writer who loves to craft creative pieces that are pedagogical and pleasurable. He won the CEF Poetry Competition. He came second in the poetry category of the 2023 NIMC Identity Day Competition. He has works forthcoming/published on Copihue Poetry, African Writer Magazine, The Muse, Poetry Journal, Writers Space Africa, and elsewhere.