Writing for the Media by Yushau A. Shuaib

Poetry
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Acknowledgement
Introduction
Corper's Letter
Youths Speak out
NYSC At 20
After NYSC
Taming the Elders
Success in Youth Service
Islam on Hair
Sharia: Civilisation and Belief
Suffering and Smiling Award
Memo to Armed Robbers
Imperative of PR
Political PR
News Cartel
PR Dilemma
Nigeria's Image
PR Analysis of Rejoinder
OBJ-Atiku and Media
Woman as Spokesperson
Voice of Nigeria
In Memory of Gen. Idiagbon
Bank Lending
Zahradeen of BUK
Prince is Gone
Gone not Forgotten
Bola Ige
Acadamic governor
A Plane Crashes
Haba Governor Lawal
OBJ, Buhari, Gani and Others
Nzeribe for Senate President?
Hamman Tukur and Honours
Constitutional Contravention
Economic Slavery
Monetisation
Revenue Formula
Excess Oil Earning
Letter to LGs
Privatisation to Demolition
Igbo Politics and Hollywood Movie
Politics of Revenue Formula
Defence of Saudi
America: A Muslim Perception
419 and the Rest of Us
Miss World: Between the Queen and Child
A Trip to London
FIFA, Faith and Fanaticism
Obasanjo's Foreign Trip
A Visit to Mecca
Letter to Muslims on US-Iraq War
Foreign and Our Legislators
Saddam and Arab's Humiliation
RE: Policing the Police
Re: Councilors' Pay
Re: Oil Windfall Palaver
Rejoinders
Re: Speak Again on NNPC
Letters to Editor
Fiction and Romance
Poetry
Re: Defence of Saudia
Re: Corper's Letter
RE: Taming the Elders
RE: Oil Windfall Palaver
RE: Igbo Politics and Movies
Reactions to Author's Email
Reviews on Novel
Reviews on Financial PR

POETRY 

WHAT HAVE I DONE?

Sunday Triumph February 17, 1991

She deserted me

Abandoned me

Ran away from me

Like past Years

No one to share my joy

No one to listen to me

No one to console me

I long for a smile

I long for a joke

A squeeze, a hug

Some kind of inspiration from her

But to no avail

It’s terrifying-horrible

So consuming, sort of a jilt

I hide my covert away

From outside the world

Oh, I still remember her wit-

Quaint responds to my myriad of queries

Why couldn’t she listen to me?My innocence?

All alone I sit on my legs

With my arms upward and prayerful

Waiting for her forgiveness

To forgive me for what I’ve doneI cry my eyes out

I hate myself

I only have my room to talk to

And the wall to look at

All for the beating I did to her

While I was drunk.

 

 

INFATUATION

You’ve shunned me for long

Under a slight mistake

Soothe and remember our young

Hilarious with promise to be

And our beautiful song

alter bitter to tea

Unzipped almost is my lung

As it waits for your key

Born is time for ding-dong

Do let the world see

Unless you call for a bang

Livelong as I leave you for the sea.

 

ACADA GIRL APPEARANCE

Abused, misused first

Chastity, dignity lost

Parades in near nude

Fostering culture of moods

In coloured thinly lips

And a bony frame of hips

Swaggers in a shattered dream

Calling it a modern beam

All to explore quick market

But in a dubious racket

On and around the campus

For the sake of a negative purse

 

WEALTH IN VAIN

You can boast with opulence

Unable to purchase beauty with ornament

Health is so secure from your pharmacy

And sight needs no spectacle.

Use head thing for enormous vivacity.

Breathing in negative luxury

Exploiting not the happiness

And relief is rare leaf

That falls on the cool-minded

Indeed shelter for patient ones

That heed to judgment.

 

MY LIFE MY LIFE

Nigeria my life

Land for me to safeguard

On it I was and shall be

Royalty to the depth and width

Indeed to sacrifice all my being

Now and till when I shall die

 

LIFE IN SORROW

Young worlds are hungry

Universe cares not for their anger

Scientists make killing discovery

And health by 1990 is rare

Unpardonable leaders looting with the lorry

Lots of life in sorry

As death grips away in hurry

Royal fathers without people’s mandate

Enlarging our expression to look awry.

 

 STREET GIRLS

Guaranteed by ages of her father

Ignoring the teaching of her mother

Roaming hither and thither

Lacerate her identity and fail to bother

Sit, for you shall be gathered together

 

DAY OF THE BIRTH

The fear grips me

Deep-deep down my marrow

The Culprit?

A cassock deliverer confronts me

No-no-no I am a fair player – a lover

Gaitily I move closer

She groans still in horror

But curse nobody, not even me

I hear push-push-push

I say push-push-push

Oh-oh I share in the sorrow

But only her, only the sacrificial lamb

I pray-pray till tears fail me

My manliness and visage betray me

The contraction must be over

My muscle twisted, the legs trembled

Then like a rainbow he bolted out with his

Ear-piercing shrieks from the butcher’s slab

My majestic African prince from the womb

Yes-yes I am the victor, macho man

Of responsible men’s club_

An automatic PTA member

I swagger in fantasy

The honeymoon must go on

For now and the future

Until the arrival of a full team

To honour my sacrificial lamb

 

AND MY TEARS ROLL

Sunday Triumph August 11, 1991

Some let their names run

Shiver into our spines

You let yours run

A spirit of love into our nerves.

 While some leave in flying colours

Others suffer after graduation

When with your Bob Marley tones

You counsel us

Others thunder at us

 Oh my mentor, my nurturer

Actor of B.U.K Holly Wood

It pains as you desert fresh students

Half backed in broadcasting.

 Don’t go `Karka Tafi, we cry

Duwo malo` we need your ray

In the name of Chineke haven’t we tried’’

Or do you want us to become prey

Or have we offended you

Are we so nasty, stubborn

To be controlled

Or gentle and brilliant

 Oh my eyes have swollen

My legs tremble

And my voice quivers

For the departure of this great man.

 Good-bye from MACOSA and me

Adieu from students of mass-comm.

`Sauka Lafiya` from the ancient city of Kano

Odabo from Giant of Africa

Dedicated to Mr. Delim Jamar, a broadcast Lecturer with the Mass Communication Department of Bayero University Kano as he returns to his country, United States of America , after a selfless service rendered the department.

You may reach the Author on yashuaib@yahoo.com or go to HOME