Happy Father’s Day: In My Father’s Robe (Remembrances of a Beloved Father…)

Juliet Kego In my father's robes

On December 5, 2010, a part of me died and rose again, more alive than ever. My father transformed from this formed plane of earthly existence to the formless beauty of the heavens…A day before that, I had launched an organization I co-founded with a friend.

More than anyone on the planet, he knew why this was an important new path for me to walk. I knew I had his unwavering support. During his burial, I had to wear his chieftaincy robe and carry his customized fan. The honour! I really do love certain parts of our culture (not the oppressive, patriarchal, limiting parts…Lol)

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Floetry by JulietKego: A Dirge for Nimbo…

childeren of biafra2_June1_2016

Nna anyi who will save
your children from the brink?
A drizzle becomes a flood
and the living-dead drink
from overrun rivers
of tears, pus and blood
I am lost in shivers,
cold from this shock
of an unnamed war
fought in the backyard
of my hometown


Children’s throats slit
like salah rams
(on open fields of rusty, red grass)
Bodies charred;
their ashes sprinkled
to appease
the herdsmen of horror
who lead the flock
to the slaughter-house


The elders, bent over
with agonized chants
from wrinkled
sunken faces
ka udo di, a plea for peace?
Onye ka anyi ga kolu?


A peace of the graveyard
reigns all around me
the graves await their bodies
I am farmished
feed me; biko nyem nri
My throat thirsts for waters
of truth from polluted
rivers of Nri


Oh sons & daughters:
‘Awaken from your limbo
stand tall at the gates
of the weeping hills of Udi
bury the bodies
of our people &
protect the living
at Nimbo.’

(C) Juliet ‘Kego Ume-Onyido