words

I am not your stressball.

I am not your punching bag.

If I had arrows of fire,
I would bullseye them into your heart

Then you’ll understand the power of words.

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Bear

Last week, my family and I went to an ocean park. We didn’t know what to expect because we went with a tour group and it was frequently referred to as a water park. In hindsight, if we knew what was in store, we wouldn’t have gone.

Over time, I have come to have a strong opposition against circuses (although I have never been to one) because I believe it is cruel to force animals to act against nature. This opposition is rapidly extending to zoos and ‘ocean parks’. The animals are in small enclosures, much smaller than that of where they would be in the wild. This results in the animals being very stressed and thus affecting their health. In addition, they mostly look very sad. 

Hence, this poem in hopes of starting a conversation on this issue. I would love to hear your stand.  

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              A bear in the Ocean Park                           credit: Ayodele-Oja    

I am a grizzly bear.

A dark-brown usually 180kg salmon eating beast.

Yet, here I am

In this small place where the hundreds of kilometres

I walk is now back and forth in a small enclosure.

I myself aren’t surprised that my skin is slowly drooping.

It’s the same way I am losing my gusto.

The 3 inches long claws I have are being put to waste

As I am fed sweet potatoes by tourists whose targets aren’t accurate enough to reach me.

In addition, the 3 metres I can stand to is now simply a tourist attraction.

I am not sure where I came from,

But I am sure I cannot go back to the wild.

Still, this pain, this suffering, for the entertainment of others, is not what I deserve.

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Bear enclosure in the Ocean Park                                    credit: Ayodele-Oja 

So, do you agree or disagree with my opposition against ocean parks? Why and why not? Do leave comments!

3.50AM

At 3.50 am in the morning,

I am awaken by a loud wail.

The foreign sounds of someone who doesn’t often shed.

Although clear that it is sincere, I am bewildered that it sounds fake.

What is wrong with emotion?

Why put up a tough front and wrap it with pride when truly,

No one wants you to,

Especially when no one wants you to?

Why succumb yourself to such torture when it’s so much pain?

My, the trouble and the difficulty.

I am not ignorant.

I see both sides and thus wake,

I wake at 3.50am in the morning.

The Chibok Girls

April 14th, was the third anniversary of the kidnapping of 276 girls, from the Government Girls Secondary School, school dormitories, in Chibok, Nigeria.

This poem is a cry for the safe return of the rest of the 195 girls that have yet to return.

It’s been three years now. Three years since the 276 girls were taken by force, in the dark of the night from the place that was the foundation of their aspirations. It’s been three years since 195 girls have last seen their families.

It is hard to comprehend. Always has been. It is difficult comprehending how people said to be human beings could celebrate the kidnapping of girls on the path of a better future. It is difficult comprehending why the government has yet to rescue the 195 of them. However, it’s a luxury for those whose problem is in comprehending how such an evil could happen and not in how it had happened to them.

There are things many of us will fail to fully understand. The emotion the parents feel when the next girl, who was managed to make it back home, isn’t their daughter. The emotion a mother feels when her daughter comes back with a baby although she is almost half the age, her Mother was when she had her first child. The agony some of the girls felt losing their babies while escaping.

However, despite the mess, a few thing are clear. Justice shall prevail, we are not afraid, and we shall #BringBackOurGirls.