Afeh Aaserhna

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Afeh Aaserhna
Thursday 31 May 2018

Democracy in Nigeria

When you add plenty

To foolishness:

What you get, is what makes

Our Nigerian legislators pursue

How they can confiscate

Our national Wealth,

Rather than striving to legislate

For our national Health.


Afeh Aaserhna
Saturday 31 March 2018

He is Risen

After sunset that fateful Saturday
The earth received her first signals
Of the cosmic and eternal realities
That occurred hours ago in Sheol.

The firmament shook in delight--
Yea, in awe, reverence and obedience.
Father Abraham and his bosom friends
Came up from their graves; and seeing
Jerusalem, walked the streets thereof.

A light breeze caressed the willowy trees
As they did obeisance to the risen One
Who now had the Keys of hell and death;
Even the birds felt the 'Release'
While the holy angels stood in awe.

But men for whom 'it' was done
Didn't believe, or care to understand.
Many wouldn't also understand
When on the day of Rapture,
A moment far more breathtaking
Than the resurrection hour,
We feel 'release' as we meet the LORD--
The Christ Yesshua in the air!

Glory!! Hallelujah!! Christ Jesus arose!!!

(Written Easter Saturday, 15th April, 2006)


Afeh Aaserhna
Saturday 31 March 2018

Tales by Moonlight

I remember how we

Used to long for such nights.

Under the starry dark night, sat we

On leather skins and raffia mats

Cuddling our breasts with robed arms

Fondling the warmth enveloped

In our protruding bellies.

We had moments earlier

Stood up from a stumptous meal

Of amala married with a

Steamy bitter-leaf infested egusi sauce.

The day on its sickbed,

With eyelids heavy with death

Four more hours and a half

Before the morrow comes

Riding in the wake of dawn.

The time is ripe for a little peep

At evening leisure

For when sleep comes calling,

Her summons: for a date with our beds,

We cannot help then but die with today.

With eyes open and heads

Cocked at an informative angle,

We listen in rapt attention

For it is Mother’s turn to tell a story

Tonight’s special – another tortoise’s adventure. be continued.

(Written Aug 2006)

Photo by Billy Huynh on Unsplash


Afeh Aaserhna
Saturday 31 March 2018


Time is life’s thoroughfare
With signposts for each event,
One for this and
Another for that.
It all begins at birth,
Probably with one very big signpost:
“Circumcision – seven days ahead.”

Time is a vehicle taking
Us from the past into the future;
It slows down when we’re bored,
Sometimes so fast fun doesn’t seem to last.
As we race on this highway
Towards the coast of tomorrow,
Today’s landscape evidently becomes
The history of yesterday.

Time is a balm:
Silently closing up wounds,
Patching broken hearts.
Time is a joker:
Bringing the sun to our smile,
The joy to our hearts when
We look back at those moments
That took our breath away
Whilst the world stood still.

Time, the soil we plant
Our deeds – good or bad,
In due season we would harvest
A just reward from the
One who holds time in His hands.
Time is a foe to the
Lazy and sluggard
Who wants time to stand and stare
While they dream their lives away.

Time is so wide
It stretches from infinity past
Ahead onto eternity.
Time, oh what a record book:
Our first step, our first word,
Our first kiss, our first love.
Our dreams, aspirations, ambitions,
Our successes, failures and hopes.

Time I believe,
Could be so many things
It would take a lot more
Of time to completely explore.
What has Time got to say?
Tighten your seat belt
Endure the ride – because
The journey of life mayn’t
Be fair at some points.

I am life’s thoroughfare
With signposts for every event,
One for this and
Another for that.
It all ends at death,
Probably on a tombstone,
Cold and white perhaps:
“Till we meet again – Rest in Peace.”

< Written May 10, 2006 ... ... and dedicated to Albert Einstein (1879-1955). >
Photo by Photos Unsplash on Unsplash


Afeh Aaserhna
Saturday 31 March 2018

A Rainy Night in a Nigerian City

Strange 'tis,
Walking in the rain
On the path to your home,
Headlights behind you.
Bent poles, dangling cables─
A myriad of carelessness.
The darkness, the wetness:
You are almost in the ditch.
Wailing hawkers, haggling buyers─
Indifferent to sounds' enveloping pitch.
On the day's deathbed, the blackness
Thickens, and then comes quietness.
What's left for today is a mess─
Dirt: dumped cans, polythene bags, junk;
All aspiring to be the foundation
Of our tomorrow's environment.

(July 3rd, 2005)
Photo by Andy Grizzell on Unsplash


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