: Of My Valentine Present And The Terrors Of Our Time

Untitled.

(Performed at the Trenchard Hall of the University of Ibadan
at the pioneering occasion of Super Bowl, an oratory contest)


At the tranquil dawn of Valentine’s Day
Some wintry wind ferried me to my lover’s place
A bottled gift, well-wrapped, threatened to be liberated from my
greedy grip.

… I knocked.

Not having much time to spend, I deliver to her the bottled joy.
She must have thought that some exotic perfume waited
to be fumed!

Well, I couldn’t wait to witness how her smile melted into a frown.
Poor lady, her Val gift was a bottleful of rummy palmwine.

enough.

But shall we talk about the terrors of our time?
Compatriots, they are foolish children
Who watch their father squander wealth
With wanton, thoughtless, recklessness.
They are stupid children who watch cinemally
As father pay for their future in crossed, unsigned cheques!
They are truly cursed children who won’t ask:
“Mother, why is your milk a watery mess of bitter, choking spill”?

The heart of this matter is a matter of the heart, so painful.
Can we close our eyes as we curse!
Shall mysterious mortars from Ogun’s own workshop
crush the bodies, souls and spirits of dream crushers…
May beastly fire from Sango’s own chambers
Stream down with fiery swiftness to bake the bastard bones of
marauding predators of our time…

The heart of this matter is a matter of the heart.
May hungry, angry soldier ants feast on their naked scrotums.
If any of their children is here,
May brimstone, heavy like Olumo, fall on him,
For sucking dry our blood and stealing our voices
May fertile twilight flash from its throne and pierce their darkness

Compatriots, let us not drench our dreams in the fountain of hopelessness
Let us not scamper about seeking the compassion of strangers


,  that one day the already soiled pages of our history
Will bear a new chapter, chronicling the exploits of saintly citizens
Freedom songs will cascade from our tongues
We will be free from such senseless political ideologies
From such religious hypocrisy
From such tribal and class intolerance

We’ll be free to laugh and embrace the fathomless
expanse of happiness.

Back to my lover!
That evening, expectedly, she came to my place,
Fuming with rage, she called me a Valueless Val.
How dare you offer me palmwine as a Val Gift?
I told her briskly – “It’s the economy”

Aloofaa (c)

Well, you need to first understand that the poem opens with a background information about where it was performed. I deliberately segmented it into two. The opening and closing gambits were just there to arrest the attention of the audience (mostly students, and Val was still very much in the air). The speaker's outburst is, however, unconnected with the palmwine or his lover. The poem only exploited the essence of the event to speak about 'the terrors of our time', with a little humour.

I hope this is understood.

Nice comment.