Aderolu Nuriyah

Aderolu Nuriyah
is a Nigerian writer who writes poems and short stories, seeing it as ways of telling the world things she really feels inside. Her works have been published in various sites and magazines.

Shattered envisions

Home, as little sister wrote in her journal last month,

Is a place where blessed souls find peace swimming

In pools of happiness.

A place where love birds find joy in releasing emotions

Under the moonlight,

Relishing dreams and memories.

Home is all you can ever dream of, hope laced with tranquility,

Home could never be forgotten.

Now, little sis writes with tears in her eyes.

Home, a place where wretched souls find solace in broken homes,

Where broken bodies swim in pools of betrayal and sadness.

Where burning houses replaced the sweet smell of flowers.

The letters spelt in a little girl’s cries when her body is being taken,

Forcefully by men like her dead father’s.

Home could be disguised as the agony a mother feels when her son is being

Dragged away, labelled as a creature meant for business purposes.

Today, home has been forgotten.

For home represents a broken piece wrapped in sheets of torment and pain,

Never to be fitted into the puzzle of life again.

Colours and chocolates

The man at the paint shop laughs again

as I stand up, repeating my request

Sir I need you-

To paint me

The colour of your skin

He may think I’m crazy

But I know I’m not

A number of bodies lay down on the ground like floor mats

Only this time I know them all

A sister, a friend, and the coffee lady’s daughter

All cause they decided they needed to be free to live.

Looks like the painter wants me dead too,

I guess this drug pills are the easy way to take.

Maybe in another life, I’d be free, free from being caged cause my body is the colour of their dark chocolates.

Little prayers

Mama scolded me for gazing at the stars last night

In this world of ours, dreams are things we are forbidden from, our only purpose perhaps

is to help others achieve theirs

Little Nene kept raising her hands up high,

Counting her prayers one after the other

One; for baba landlord to stop sleeping with mama as our house rent

When this happens, I think real Mama will come back

With her grace, pride

And immense love for the stars that glow the brightest

That way we’ll watch them together again

Two; for baba to safely return back home after being sold,

To people who dealt in gallant warriors and those who made them tender-

As softened cucumbers on a bent stalk

Overgrown

rotten masculinity

Three; for brother Ike to finally find a job after three years

For the fine sand to delete his footprints from memory

And the heat of the sun to come like the rest will, in some time

To book appointments to shine on my brother

Once in a fortnight would do

And four; for us to be free from slavery

Weakness

Sunburns

and all.