It is very important to me It is a poem titled “Edo”
It talks about my history My ancestry
My story My people’s travails; their triumphs
It tells you how the British came; I mean the fiendish and the selfish
They did what was brutish And
They whisked the relish we cherish And it’s a tribute to my ancestors
They are those whose words were swords
The ripple could cripple Oh Edo! A people of credo
We don’t hide what we do Our pride doesn’t ride on ado We are knights,
Of day and night We have fought epic fights
We are wrought in might Gauge our language so rich in adages,
That convey messages devoid of verbiages Behold a culture that battled rupture for
ages Capture with rapture the picture I feature
in these pages Our ancestors were ladies and lords;
Their simple was ample Their words were swords:
The ripple could cripple Never ever did they shiver;
Because they had liver Never ever did they quiver;
Hence, they held the lever Eyes and ears have beholden to our endogenous ethos The Portuguese and Greeks valued our indigenous kalathos Historians hoisted our ancestors who allowed no bathos History hated ploys and plots that could paint us in pathos Then came the British:
The fiendish and selfish They did what was brutish
They whisked the relish we cherish Crisis crisscrossed crisis
We bled Our oasis came from their antithesis
They fled Driven by a conspiracy of conscience and malaria
Their intrusion birthed our infusion in a country by coercion
Behold a State of strangers called Nigeria, And cries of secession and suffusion of succession of confusion Richness of uniqueness yet adorns Edo courtyards
The relics of our moat defy measurement in yards Archaeologists find treasure for measure in our backyards Fake news vendors find arrears of barriers in our front yards Behold the “ten doors” town of Urhonigbe:
Where my ancestors wore valour as armour Wherein a part is still defiantly called Uhunegiagbe (That’s the head that cannot be destroyed) Where you still find a people of valour with candour Behold Benin City:
Where riveting relics have no paucity Where bronze casting meets sagacity
Where modernity vents with audacity Behold chiefs in and around the city,
Adorned in special hair-cut called uguakpata; A cut that conveys regal carriage of men of veracity Behold elegance of beaded humans in a hall called Urhokpota Behold Oba Akenzua II Centre and Benin Museum:
Where artifacts cry for their siblings entrapped in Europe Where artifacts cry for siblings entrapped in Europe Where artifacts cry for siblings entrapped in Europe Behold Igun Street: where masters craft arts that can fill a colosseum Where inventors without investors do wonders on tightrope Behold our Oba: Still a thunder! Still a samba! Still a wonder! ******Audience clapping******


  1. This is amazing piece. Our heritage needs validation, if we fail it we fall by the wayside…congratulations sir.

  2. I love learning about your great Benin kingdom. Thank the for allowing us to know your thoughts. You are a great man great author.

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