Is it just me or this year was pretty fast? As at this time last year, I had rounded up my cool fm gig and was gearing for a more focused 2014 putting nothing but communication in mind. I had decided on some very drastic decisions like a change of school and a more dogged focus on
Wednesday, December 31, 2014
The Wheel of Change by Deji Onadeko
Thursday, November 6, 2014
#MyPrayerThisMorning
My Life in one word - Grace
My Life in another - Favour
My Life in two words - God's Grace
My Life in another - God's Favour...
My Life in another - Favour
My Life in two words - God's Grace
My Life in another - God's Favour...
Tuesday, November 4, 2014
Just Friends?
With You friendship is a curse ... and I'm afraid to think cause all I think of is You ...
I thought an unfulfilled dream was any man's biggest worry ...
I thought future security was every man's goal ...
But ...
I thought an unfulfilled dream was any man's biggest worry ...
I thought future security was every man's goal ...
But ...
Wednesday, October 1, 2014
The Territory They Now Call Nigeria by Deji ONADEKO
I'm From a territory the white man called Nigeria ...
I'm From a race the white man called black ...
I sing an anthem cause the white man called it nice ...
I'm only deserving to earn if the white man calls me wise ...
Now I speak a language my fore fathers never heard before...
And I wear cloths my fore fathers never envisaged ...
Now, if you don't speak his language, you are dumb or ambiguously put, uneducated ...
And if you've never visited his country, O' you are unexposed ...
They are the standard by which we live by ...
If he doesn't think its good enough, then it isn't good enough...
I fed on cocoa, groundnunts, cassava and bitter cola ...
I drank palmwine and cooked with my local source, iru, with a smile on my face I did everything in pace ...
And when the disease the white man now calls malaria and chicken pox killed any of us,
We cried, mourned and paid homeage to our gods and then moved on ...
I told my children our stories, taught them on slabs and rocks,
we loved life and life was good ... only that the white man convinced us that it was not good enough ...
Indeed the white man brought me health and wealth ...
But the richer and healthier we got, slowly from brotherly love we fell ...
So the life he showed me was maybe right,
But it was not without a price ...
The white man showed me oil, black oil, he called it, I thought it was cause he found it in black soil, but it is actually black, I figured ...
He promised me a better life, better than the one I already had ...
Indeed life was better, but also bitter ...
Bitter with strife, greed and anger ...
Now the man or tribe that had more of this black stuff was richer ...
And then, I learnt to war, I killed with the white man's gun, in my tribe, we called it "igi apayan" meaning the stick that kills ...
Then I began to fight against those I once called brother ...
And indeed life got better
But also harder ...
Now the stories my grandfather told me, I'm afraid to tell ...
And even if I did, I should have learnt the white man's history well ...
I read Chinua Achebe and Wole Soyinka but also I have got to read enough of William Shaskespaer before I'm called literally sound ...
And I'm wondering sincerely, how much do they know of here ...
They know we are black and that we were once slaves.
They know about our natural resources, our extra man power and strength ...
They know we are a third world nation, a developing state, a state that needs aid and help from poverty and obscurity ..
But for our history, all they remember is the berlin conference,
And anything before then is unworthy of reverence ...
I have not denied The great deal of good the white man's invasion caused us ...
But I want to know more ...
I want to know what my fore fathers called africa before the white man called it africa ...
I want to know what my grandfather called Nigeria, before it was divided into regions and later called nigeria ...
I want to know what our symbol of unity was, before the green flags and solidarity songs ..
I know enough of the white mans view of my history, the repress and supress that he mildly called colonialism ...
Now I want to hear of before them, the dreams and aspirations my fathers had of now, their imaginations of the future ...
I want to be free but I dont want freedom ...
I want to be independent, but I dont want independence ...
Those words always make my liberty look like a privilege ...
Like a gift from the white mann ...
In all, I want to know this land, not in the view of the white mann ...
But in the view of the black man before he was called black ...
I want to know more about The territory they now call Nigeria before it was called Nigeria ...
I'm From a race the white man called black ...
I sing an anthem cause the white man called it nice ...
I'm only deserving to earn if the white man calls me wise ...
Now I speak a language my fore fathers never heard before...
And I wear cloths my fore fathers never envisaged ...
Now, if you don't speak his language, you are dumb or ambiguously put, uneducated ...
And if you've never visited his country, O' you are unexposed ...
They are the standard by which we live by ...
If he doesn't think its good enough, then it isn't good enough...
I fed on cocoa, groundnunts, cassava and bitter cola ...
I drank palmwine and cooked with my local source, iru, with a smile on my face I did everything in pace ...
And when the disease the white man now calls malaria and chicken pox killed any of us,
We cried, mourned and paid homeage to our gods and then moved on ...
I told my children our stories, taught them on slabs and rocks,
we loved life and life was good ... only that the white man convinced us that it was not good enough ...
Indeed the white man brought me health and wealth ...
But the richer and healthier we got, slowly from brotherly love we fell ...
So the life he showed me was maybe right,
But it was not without a price ...
The white man showed me oil, black oil, he called it, I thought it was cause he found it in black soil, but it is actually black, I figured ...
He promised me a better life, better than the one I already had ...
Indeed life was better, but also bitter ...
Bitter with strife, greed and anger ...
Now the man or tribe that had more of this black stuff was richer ...
And then, I learnt to war, I killed with the white man's gun, in my tribe, we called it "igi apayan" meaning the stick that kills ...
Then I began to fight against those I once called brother ...
And indeed life got better
But also harder ...
Now the stories my grandfather told me, I'm afraid to tell ...
And even if I did, I should have learnt the white man's history well ...
I read Chinua Achebe and Wole Soyinka but also I have got to read enough of William Shaskespaer before I'm called literally sound ...
And I'm wondering sincerely, how much do they know of here ...
They know we are black and that we were once slaves.
They know about our natural resources, our extra man power and strength ...
They know we are a third world nation, a developing state, a state that needs aid and help from poverty and obscurity ..
But for our history, all they remember is the berlin conference,
And anything before then is unworthy of reverence ...
I have not denied The great deal of good the white man's invasion caused us ...
But I want to know more ...
I want to know what my fore fathers called africa before the white man called it africa ...
I want to know what my grandfather called Nigeria, before it was divided into regions and later called nigeria ...
I want to know what our symbol of unity was, before the green flags and solidarity songs ..
I know enough of the white mans view of my history, the repress and supress that he mildly called colonialism ...
Now I want to hear of before them, the dreams and aspirations my fathers had of now, their imaginations of the future ...
I want to be free but I dont want freedom ...
I want to be independent, but I dont want independence ...
Those words always make my liberty look like a privilege ...
Like a gift from the white mann ...
In all, I want to know this land, not in the view of the white mann ...
But in the view of the black man before he was called black ...
I want to know more about The territory they now call Nigeria before it was called Nigeria ...
Sunday, September 28, 2014
Dear Future Wife
And there she
stood, doing nothing else that I could see.
Except standing,
leaning on her right side,
Holding my
universe together.
She had stolen
my eyes first, and then… my Heart followed.
Pure beauty and
yet all she did was lean.
And in this very moment; beside her,
Every other
woman I had met seemed pale.
Dear Future Wife,
I promise to
help you love life and to love you fiercely in all your forms.
I promise to listen,
knowing that you won’t be happy otherwise, and if you aren’t happy, then I
can’t be happy
“I promise to go
shopping with you, this way I’ll learn emotional patience, letting you do all
the shopping, watching you go around the store looking at items you wouldn’t
buy.’’
I’ll dwell with
you with knowledge, knowing that it’ll take more than Love to keep us together.
When you come seeking solution to a problem; that may not even be a problem,
I’ll be a sounding bag on what you want to hear to that event.
Knowing that
love’s magic is not in falling in love but in staying in love, I vow that no
matter how far apart our differences take us, I’ll always leave bread crumbs to
find our way back to each other.
I promise to
give you comfort; knowing that you also require financial security, I’ll keep
chasing my dreams and help you chase yours making sure that we build an empire.
I promise to
give you kids, as many of them as you want. I know they’ll have your smile and
it’ll be a blessing to have our kids call me Daddy.
I vow never to
raise my voice and hands at you, knowing that with you the only things I’ll hit
are the goals I set, nothing else.
And so I woke up
to reality!
Seeing that you
had only been in my dreams.
Turning around,
Sarah had left the bed, she was no longer here.
Who is Sarah? (Isn’t
that the question of the day?)
Well, she’s yet another shadow of you; another
reason why I can’t wait to finally meet you, the real YOU.
Dear future
Wife, I Love Us.
DAMIAN
Monday, August 18, 2014
Download - Campus Beatz 004 ... 16th/August/2014
Download - Campus Beatz 004 Part 1/3
Download - Campus Beatz 004 Part 2/3
Download - Campus Beatz 004 Part 3/3
for your listening pleasure ... enjoy!!!
Monday, July 7, 2014
POEM TITLE: IN SUMMARY BY OGUNDELE 'KC' KAYODE
My
heart left to fight,
It's
not time for flight,
I
wonder how these became my plight,
It's
not pretty my delight...
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