My area description:
I place my one liter water bottle to my left, Bible to my right, phone to my thigh or table and laptop to my fingers.
Then I think, how do I enter this whirlwind?
The wind might be rusty or calm, but still I’m inside. Almost blinded by the rush of winds…
Then you need a revival
You need a remembrance of your beautiful spirit.
You need the cold air, you need the humbling Spirit.
You need a cup of wisdom and a breathe of salinity.
Our Poet Laureate 2019 winner is Abel Okwor and his beautiful, prolific use of words and your votes earned him this title.
We had the usual interview session with him, with hopes that you would know him better. Meet Abel Okwor.
Now, as the story has been popularized already at the time of writing this, I would spare you the moment by moment details of the situation but give a brief. The U.S.A on the order of its supreme leader launched a missile attack on the Chief Commander of the Iranian Military in Iran based on intelligence, and yea this launched General Soleimani’s soul to the afterlife. Now let us pause for a sec, on first knowledge of this I thought; “Is this legal”, “Should a country be permitted to do this to another country”, “Are there no international laws that regulate these sort of acts”, “murderers” etc.
So, I took a step towards entering the competition. The theme of the competition appeared quite cultural and I was one with a flair for my culture. I love the Yoruba culture. I feel a certain kind of joy to represent with the Yoruba people. Trust me, they amuse you more than they abuse you.
I never knew many African authors. Aderemi and I would gosh over Wole Soyinka’s books and a few others (mostly older people), but I didn’t know the new creative spirit that had evolved.
