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Chief EzeMalukwuo Onwurah Nwoye Egbuonu 1933'2974, 41 years.

Chief EzeMalukwuo Onwurah Nwoye Egbuonu.

@wshaderack

Thank you, brother.

I appreciate you reading it beyond poetry — as practical reality. That is exactly what Cemalukian is trying to do: take our local tongue and test it as a linguistic case study in the larger English world.

Your comment is encouragement for me to keep documenting.

Thank you again.

Tony Cemaluk

Uto Nwanne Bii Na Umu-azi

I said it beforehand,
and they called me monster.

What did I say?

That uto nwanne bii na umu-azi —
the sweetness of brotherhood
ends in childhood.

That genuine joy of blood
stops after infancy.

That once a man finds
his own voice,
his own way,
his own greed,
his own god —
the last figment of "nwanne" dies.

What you see after that
is not brotherhood.

It is an altar.
An altar of cheating.

There you will find two people:
The cheater who eats,
And the cheated who smiles,
carrying the dead body of brotherhood
on his head,
so others will clap and say
"see how united they are."

Until one day,
the cheated — unknown, unpraised, unseen —
stops smiling,
slumps,
and the altar scatters.

Then you will see —
the cheaters could never gather
without the back of the cheated.Kindly read the published version and drop a comment: https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/uto-nwanne-bii-na-umuazi/#:~:text=%2B9,12%20PM%20%23%20rel_20261022T080914Z_e3039d4

Ezemalukwuo, Not Just A Title

In his father's house, many wives, many sons,
But Ada was first — the daughter of dawn,
Given in marriage to a house that held warrant,
A house where chiefs spoke and earth shook.

Then her brother from one womb left,
And Ada became a tree without root beside her,
Her husband saw it and raised his hand,
Believing no voice would rise for her.

She came with tears to her father's compound,
And met him — just returned from Lafia,
My father, young, not expected to confront strong chief family,
But he heard the tears of his father's Ada, and braced up.

He took her hand, he faced the man,
He carried her case to the Warrant Palace,
Where judgement sat, but tilted,
Favouring power against the weeping woman.

My father did what young-brothers are not expected to do,
What fearful men would never do,
He took his sister by the hand,
And said, "Nwannem nwanyi bia ka anyi laa — my sister come let us go home. I can cater for you."

He walked out on a Warrant Chief,
A walk that shook the stool itself,
And the Chief, humbled, sent his emissaries abegging,
Come back, bring our wife, let justice speak again.

This time, justice stood straight,
No partiality, no bending,
My father nodded, "This is fair, Nwannem nwanyi stay."

As he turned to go, the Warrant Chief called him,
"Young man, you are Ezemalukwuo Ikwe, Eze amaghikwu iju,
If a king judges well, you accept,
If not, you walk away."

That day, a name was born before Ozo,
Not given by title, but by courage,
Not by cap, but by character.

Ezemalukwuo — not just a title, but a verdict on justice.


Kindly read the published version: https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ezemalukwuo-not-just-a-title/#:~:text=%2B9,26%20PM%20%23%20rel_20261022T080914Z_e3039d4

Kindly read the published poem to find out why my fathernor me :https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dont-blame-me-blame-my-father/#:~:text=%2B9,09%20PM%20%23%20rel_20261022T080914Z_e3039d4

Kindly read the published version:https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/tomorrows-memory-1/#:~:text=%2B9,59%20PM%20%23%20rel_20261022T080914Z_e3039d4

https://www.facebook.com/share/1Eh776aU1n/p




Chief Onwurah Nwoye Egbuonu (1933–1974), also known as Malukwuo

Chief Onwurah Nwoye Egbuonu (1933–1974) was a Nigerian trader and family patriarch from Ojoto, Idemili South Local Government Area, Anambra State. He was the son of Chief Egbuonu Obibuenyi, a prosperous farmer from Ojoto who married seven wives.

Born in 1933, Chief Onwurah Nwoye Egbuonu was known by the Igbo cognomen Malukwuo (Eze-Malukwuo: If it is truth I will agree, if it is not truth I will refuse), reflecting his reputation for truth-speaking and moral uprightness. He was a merchant in Lafiamarket and environ during Nigeria's post-colonial commercial boom.

He married Mrs. Cecilia Ekwubisionu Egbuonu, nee Igbo (Ebube Agbala, Ugogbuzuo), a leader in the Catholic Women Organization (CWO) and custodian of the "Johnu Tisane" (coffee leaf decoction). Their union produced several children.

He died in 1974 at age 41, when his son Anthony Chinedum Cemaluk Egbuonu was six years old. Though not the Diokpala of the large Egbuonu family of Chief Obibuenyi, his lineage was preserved as the Cemaluk dynasty (Ce-Malukwuo) by his son, a Professor of Biochemistry at Michael Okpara University of Agriculture, Umudike.

The Cemaluk compound remains in Ojoto, Anambra State.

#OnwurahNwoyeEgbuonu #Malukwuo #CEMALUK #Ojoto #TonyCemaluk

https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/two-twentysevens/#:~:text=%2B9,48%20PM%20%23%20rel_20261022T080914Z_e3039d4

Kindly compare my dad amd my self at age twenty seven in one but different phases of Nigeria:

https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/two-twentysevens/#:~:text=%2B9,48%20PM%20%23%20rel_20261022T080914Z_e3039d

CEMALUKIAN COINAGE NOW: A LINGUISTIC CASE STUDY
By Tony Cemaluk Egbuonu - October 8, 2026

Not coin in pocket — but coin in tongue.
I did not mint gold, I minted meaning. They said define it — I lived it.

WHAT IS CEMALUKIAN COINAGE?

This is a new form of Nigerian English where my personal story, my mother's teaching, and Igbo (Ojoto dialect) come together to create new words and sentences.

My coinages include:
- War without weaponry
- Dearly duly digitally document - Immortalized
- Brother today, father tomorrow
- Allowed anomaly
- Stopped seeking to find
- Averted cold wars in heated warm hot peace talks
- Tinker therapy
Richest poverty
Sweetening Solitude
Force fails
- Staff not gold
- Gold dust to cold dust
- Pound cocoyam
And others as in poemhunter site and the memoir Echoes of an amazing amazon

These are not just new words. They are morphology of memory and syntax of soul.

ROOT: ODNNNN
Ochie Dike Nnem na Nnam, Nwanyi Ka Nwoke — The Amazing Amazon of Ojoto.
She primed my passion, forged my tongue. From Ojoto idioms to global English syntax.

Unlike normal money coin, Cemalukian coinage mints coin in tongue: meaning over metal. From one-room provision store to provision of words.

This case study shows how my work compares with titans of word coinage like Shakespeare, Achebe, Soyinka — but mine is different because it is anchored on my mother. A passionate poet's marble inscription for an extraordinary matriarch of two giants — Egbuonu and Cemaluk. The latter a hybrid naturally towering above the former and peers.

KEYWORDS: Cemalukian coinage, Tony Cemaluk, Tony Cemaluk Egbuonu, ODNNNN, Ojoto dialect, Nigerian English coinage, Igbo English contact, matriarchal linguistics

ORIGINAL POSTER & LIVE POEM: https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/cemalukian-coinage-now-a-linguistic-case-study/

Tony Cemaluk Egbuonu
Ojoto, Anambra State
October 2026

#cemaluk #cemalukian #ODNNNN #Ojoto #NigerianEnglish

Kindly read ,appreciate and comment:
https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/cemalukian-coinage-now-a-linguistic-case-study/#:~:text=%2B9,45%20PM%20%23%20rel_20260925T122446Z_7d6ee4

Fella. This is art not war that you rightly noted is never nice. Clear your eyes m. Enjoy the art not war that is never nice which a widow fought without weapons, without standing army and won.

Kindly check and see how to beat death to death. Read the full published poem on PoemHunter here:https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/beat-death-to-death/#:~:text=%2B9,53%20PM%20%23%20rel_20260925T122446Z_7d6ee41

Kindly behold the Iroko Lizard as on PoemHunter:


https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-iroko-lizard/

Kindly read this sequel to Brother Today, Father Tomorrow:



https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/allowed-anomaly-rooted-royal-rumbles-needing-redressing-today-for-restituted-tomorrow/

UPDATE: PoemHunter DIRECT LINK LIVE

BROTHER TODAY, FATHER TOMORROW — ALLOWED ANOMALY
For Onwurah Nwoye Egbuonu 1933-1974 = 41 years (corrected)

Direct Poem Link:
https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/brother-today-father-tomorrow-allowed-anomalyfor-onwurah-nwoye-egbuonu13-years-old-in-194641-years-old-in-19741933-1974/


Nairaland Topic:
https://www.nairaland.com/8753737/brother-today-father-tomorrow-allowed

Chapter 13 versified from MRS. CECILIA MALUKWUO EGBUONU — ECHOES OF AN AMAZING AMAZON ODNNNN

CEMALUK | ODNNNN 2026

BROTHER TODAY, FATHER TOMORROW — ALLOWED ANOMALY
For Onwurah Nwoye Egbuonu — 13 years old in 1946, 41 years old in 1974
Born 1933 - Died 1974

He was thirteen,
Not man, not child,
Palm-wine still fresh in his father's gourd
When the tree took him.

1946.
Grandfather climbed to honor an in-law's Ozo,
Fell as he lived — providing for others.

Many wives, many children,
And a boy of thirteen left standing:
Onwurah Nwoye Egbuonu.

Then custom entered the compound.

The Di Okpala came,
Already a man, already blessed with means,
And by ikuchi nwanyi,
Took his father's wives
To keep the family together,
They said.

Allowed.
Customary.
Lawful.

But who explains law to a thirteen-year-old heart?

Brother Today,
Father Tomorrow,
Allowed Anomaly.

Yesterday, he called him Brother.
Today, the same doorway,
The same wrapper,
The same voice that once called him Nwanne,
Now answers to another title
In his mother's hut.

Mother still cooks,
But not as before.
Mother still there,
But not as alone.

Where does a boy put that pain
When culture says do not cry?

He swallowed it.
And the swallowed knife became backbone.

That is why later,
His own title would mean:
If a king speaks truth and justice, I agree,
If not, I never will.

Because at thirteen he learned:
Custom can wound,
Elders can be wrong,
Truth must be defended, even if it costs life.

He carried that silence
To his own marriage to Cecilia,
To his own children,
To planting season 1974
When at 41 he too died defending truth.

Brother Today, Father Tomorrow,
Allowed Anomaly —

But the seed survived.
The wound became witness.

From the thirteen-year-old Onwurah Nwoye Egbuonu of 1946,
To the forty-one-year-old father who fell in planting season 1974,
To the six-year-old who became harvest,
To the lineage that will never lose both —

The anomaly is no longer allowed to repeat.

CEMALUK


Author's Note & Corrigendum:
For Onwurah Nwoye Egbuonu (1933-1974) aged 41 years, not 39 as earlier oral record said. 1933-1974 = 41. 13 in 1946 when his father died via palm-tree fall honoring Ozo in-law, and witnessed ikuchi nwanyi. Poem is Chapter 13 versified.

Full version on PoemHunter: Brother Today, Father Tomorrow — Allowed Anomaly for Onwurah Nwoye Egbuonu 13 Years Old In 1946,41 Years Old In 1974 1933-1974 by Tony Cemaluk

Book: MRS. CECILIA MALUKWUO EGBUONU — ECHOES OF AN AMAZING AMAZON ODNNNN
By Tony Cemaluk Egbuonu, Ojoto

War Without War Weaponry
For Mrs. Cecilia Ekwubisionu Malukwuo Egbuonu
Ebube Agbala - Ugo Gbuzuo Ochakee - Ochie Dike Nnem Na Nnam
By Tony Cemaluk Egbuonu (CEMALUK)

She fought a war without war weaponry,
No gun, no sword, no army at her gate.

Planting season, 1974.
Husband fell at thirty-nine.
She stood at thirty-seven,
With seven mouths and a one-room store -
And a fate.

Relatives came,
Cried,
Ate,
Left.

The compound waited to scatter.
The world waited to shame her.

She did not plant yam that year.
She planted her children.

This was war without war weaponry,
Her spear was patience, not iron.
Her shield was dignity, not wood,
She fought whispers with structure,
Insults with silence,
Hunger with labour.

Other widows begged,
Cecilia laboured.

Cartons on head to the garage,
Needle in hand at midnight,
Mending torn wrappers,
Counting stocks by lantern,
Whispering her war oath into the dark:
'My children will not scatter.
They will gather.'

She told her son,
'School is your father now.
When your father died,
I became your father too.'

War without war weaponry,
Tinker Therapy - Gbaa Gbaa!
Like old Mr Hilary beating the bent pan to shape,
Her cane was not to break,
But to restore.

She preserved a compound
More than a man could.
Nwanyi ka nwoke!
Ebube Agbala!
Ugo gbuzuo Ochakee!
Ochie Dike Nnem Na Nnam!

No bullet was fired,
Yet a battle was won.
No army marched,
Yet a kingdom was kept.

The bucket still holds water.

89 years.
Fulfilled.
Victorious.
Unbroken.

War without war weaponry -
And she won.

Read full poem on PoemHunter:
https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/war-without-war-weaponryfor-mrs-cecilia-ekwubisionu-malukwuo-egbuonuebube-agbala-ugo-gbuzuo-ochakee-ochie-dike-nnem-na-nnam/

He Died Defending Truth, Now Truth Never Dies
By Tony Cemaluk Egbuonu (CEMALUK)

He died defending truth,
In planting season, 1974.
Forty-one years, so strong, so true,
Eze Malukwuo Okwe!

He saw what was wrong,
And refused to look away.
He spoke in the gathering,
And paid the supreme price.

No hospital, no long goodbye,
Just like that and then silence.
But his last words were trust,
'She will carry the children.'

They thought truth would be buried,
With him in red earth next day.
They thought the name would scatter,
They thought the line would fade.

But truth does not rot,
Truth does not die.
You bury a man,
You cannot bury why.

From one-room store, his wife planted,
From six-year-old tears, his son rose.
The seed of 1974,
Has become a forest that grows.

He died defending truth,
Now truth never dies!
CEMALUK, husband and wife fused into one,
A name with clean beginning,
A name based on truth and honor.
In CEMALUK, his name resets,
In FOUR D his legacy lives,
In every scholar, he multiplies.

EzeMalukwuo Okwe!
Eze Amalukwu Oju!
If you spoke truth, he agreed,
If not, he never bowed!

He died defending truth,
Now truth has a Trust.
Now truth has a compound,
Now truth has a deed that must.

Papa, your harvest has come.

- Your son, Tony Cemaluk Egbuonu

In Honor of Chief EzeMalukwuo Onwurah Nwoye Egbuonu - 1933 - 1974 (41 Years)

Read full poem on PoemHunter:
https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/he-died-defending-truth-now-truth-never-dies/

Kindly read and comment



HE DIED DEFENDING TRUTH, NOW TRUTH NEVER DIES
- In Honor of Chief EzeMalukwuo Onwurah Nwoye Egbuonu -
1933 - 1974 (41 Years)

He died defending truth,
In planting season, 1974.
Forty-one years, so strong, so true,
Eze Malukwuo Okwe!

He saw what was wrong,
And refused to look away.
He spoke in the gathering,
And paid the supreme price.

No hospital, no long goodbye,
Just like that and then silence.
But his last words were trust,
"She will carry the children."

They thought truth would be buried,
With him in red earth next day.
They thought the name would scatter,
They thought the line would fade.

But truth does not rot,
Truth does not die.
You bury a man,
You cannot bury why.

From one-room store, his wife planted,
From six-year-old tears, his son rose.
The seed of 1974,
Has become a forest that grows.

He died defending truth,
Now truth never dies!
CEMALUK, husband and wife fused into one,
A name with clean beginning,
A name based on truth and honor.
In CEMALUK, his name resets,
In FOUR D his legacy lives,
In every scholar, he multiplies.

EzeMalukwuo Okwe!
Eze Amalukwu Oju!
If you spoke truth, he agreed,
If not, he never bowed!

He died defending truth,
Now truth has a Trust.
Now truth has a compound,
Now truth has a deed that must.

Papa, your harvest has come.
- Your son, Tony Cemaluk Egbuonu


Kindly read as publushed:
https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/he-died-defending-truth-now-truth-never-dies/

Kindly read and comment :



Truth Tortuous Just To The Unjust


Truth is straight,
It is men who are crooked.

To the just,
It is light.

To the unjust,
It is labyrinth.

It does not torture,
It reveals the torture
Men hid in themselves.

The just meet Truth and breathe,
The unjust meet Truth and burn

ruth-monger is tagged a monster because the unjust can't bear the Tortuous burn if truth.

Read the published poem here: https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/truth-tortuous-just-to-the-unjust/#:~:text=%2B9,31%20PM%20%23%20rel_20260910T140628Z_5ffb431

Kindly read and comment:

Gold Dust And Cold Dust
(For Every Boy Who Chased Gold And Found A Grave)

He heard the earth whisper — "gold here"
Pick in hand, hope in chest,
He followed the glitter
The world calls gold dust.

Every shovel, a prayer,
Every speck, a promise.

But gold dust does not love back,
It blinds before it binds,
The soil that shines
Is the soil that swallows.

He returned in silence,
The world called it cold dust.

Now the pit is empty,
The sieve is still,
One boy less in the village,
One mother's world standing still.

For gold that never kissed his palm,
He paid with breath.
Gold dust remains,
He became cold dust.

Kindly read the published poem here:

https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/gold-dust-and-cold-dustfor-every-boy-who-chased-gold-and-found-a-grave/

Kindly read and comment




Many Missions, One Mansion

We left with different reasons,
Same dust on our feet.

One left to find gold in the hills,
One left to find God in a quiet room,
One left because hunger knocked too loud,
One left because love promised a softer bed.
Some waited for those that left to come back with goodies.

Many missions.
Different maps.

She sells zobo under the hot sun,
Roasted corn under dim light.
Her brother rides till evening curfew,
Their father still digs the earth for a living.
Their mother still prays the pit will not swallow him,
Or curfew handcuff her children.

We argue about who suffered most,
Who hustled right,
Who cut corners.

But at night,
We return to the same compound,
Same pot, same noise, same mother shouting,
"All of you are welcome back?"
All eyes still waiting for good news from the hills.

Many missions,
One mansion.

The mansion is not marble.
It is not far away.
It is this strong country,
This tired roof that leaks but still holds,
This name we abuse, but still answer when it calls.

We went out to find fortune,
We found ourselves.
We went out to escape home,
We built it elsewhere and called it home,
Only to remember -

Every road led out,
Every road led back.

Many missions, one mansion.
Many struggles, one shelter.
We may quarrel in the yard,
But we will fix the leaking roof together.

Kindly read the published version here:
https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/many-missions-one-mansion/

Freedom Has A Fence

We live in a free world,
freedom is free for all,
until it meets a private boundary,
a barricade against interference
and false freedom's encroachment.

There freedom flees,
ceases to be FREE.


.Also, read here:

https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/freedom-has-a-fence/

Kindly, read and comment


Void's Violent Voice

As a whistling pine, the void whistles,
Voice high-pitched, violent —
Like pines dancing to harmattan wind.

But this one dances not to harmattan,
It dances in the final void,
On last voyage to Voomland,
Home of spirits, base of voyagers.

[Poet's Note: Voomland is the land of the spirits after life's voyage.

Please, read the published poem here: https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/voids-violent-voice/

Kindly read and comment



*willy-Nilly? Never.

Human being.
Male. Female.
Body. Soul.
Iron. Lead.
Tensile. Malleable.
Zacchaeus. Goliath.
Pauper. Affluent.

Man is never ruled by force. Never.

Attempt it.
And face revolt —
from subtle to snowball.
Ample to avalanche.
Billy to bold.
Cowardly to courageous.
Trivial to tremendous.
Gypsy to giant.

Confine it and contend:
congestive contraction,
then catastrophic cascading revolt.

Among approaches:
Willy-nilly? Never.





Read full published here:

https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/willynilly-never/