They’ll be back, Papa
strung into secrets shloka
hang ’em like pāda
a dua verse, a psalm, a song,
an ululation, a chant, a canticle,
a poem; a sombre sonnet for their safety..
A prayer for sisters;
a song for our daughtersJK
© Juliet ‘Kego
We were there
when she folded her dreams
and laid them neatly
in a metal box
(between layers of rocky, pain-pebbles)..
She shut down the lid
with a force of finality
and put it down, soft-like
by the river bank;
– her dreams, her heart, her soul.
We stood with her
as the box sank to sleep
at the river bed
and wordlessly, we walked her back,
a half-being, to a half-life…
(c) Juliet ‘Kego
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…Yes, I said it! Lol)❤
#FindingTheEXTRAORDINARYinTheOrdinary There’s something magical about thanksgiving, in particular cooking for beloved family and friends. All the clanging of crockery, the loud clunking of pots and pans. The spices floating up our senses and all around the home.
The excited chatter of young and old voices, the sly and naughty peeks into the many pots, still cooking on the stove; tasting a sauce here, a piece of meat there, a still-warm piece of bread, fresh out of the oven.
We shall meet there at heaven’s gate
Where a cross makes new life for the late
And a molten grace dissolves despair
Spring of love flows through walls of fear
Tingly laughter drowns our choking cries
Truth whispers; she buries weighted lies
Aye, then, as our faith takes root
Beloved, away we go, to take a tour
On a laughter-lit, narrow angels’ route
Darkness & demons make a detour
Far from us, at the cross-road junction
To us shall flow the holy unction
And after a winter’s chill of shrivelled leaves
Spring peeks shyly; in death (s)he lives…
© Juliet ‘Kego
I can’t believe 2017 is almost at our shores! 2016 was a kaleidoscope of so many different developmental strides, events, collaborations, loss, deaths, re-births, challenges and triumphs. Ultimately, if there was a word to describe 2016 for my team and I, it would be ADVOCACY.
We finally wrapped a couple of advocacy cases in different sectors and embarked on some foundational reforms around sexual abuse in two tertiary institutions.
For 2017, my focus is geared towards social enterprise (specifically, economic empowerment); creating sustainable opportunities for young creatives (through the POETRY4Change platform, in collaboration with Praxis Magazine Online); developing structured mentorship spaces, angel investing synergies and micro-lending platforms for youth in different streams of the social enterprise value chain.
“One day you will ask me which is more important? My life or yours? I will say mine and you will walk away not knowing that you are my life.” – Kahlil Gibran
You are a special story-book
I shall never grow tired of reading
yet must somehow put down
on a console in my basement
[Originally published on Sahara Reporters on Oct 26, 2016 and culled from saharareporters.com]
A poem by the renowned Nigerian poet Niyi Osundare.
Please tell me where to keep your bribe?
Do I drop it in your venerable chambers
Or carry the heavy booty to your immaculate mansion