Unfinished Piece November (Sguru)

Dambe – A form of boxing associated with the Hausa people of West Africa. Historically, Dambe included a wrestling component, known as Kokawa , but today it is essentially a striking art. The tradition is dominated by Hausa butcher caste groups, and over the last century evolved from clans of butchers traveling to farm villages at harvest time, integrating a fighting challenge by the outsiders into local harvest festival entertainment. It was also traditionally practiced as a way for men to get ready for war, and many of the techniques and terminology allude to warfare. Today, companies of boxers travel performing outdoor matches accompanied by ceremony and drumming , throughout the traditional Hausa homelands of northern Nigeria, southern
Niger and southwestern Chad . [1] The name “Dambe” derives from the Hausa word for “boxe”, and appears in languages like Bole as Dembe .

Sguru – A Fight.

Sguru

“sguruu!! sguruu!! sguruu!! sguruuu….”

It was within a chanting circle where i got my first fist beating. First we stood there striking our best Kung Fu stances ,
Long before he clenched them into solid knuckles……..i could almost feel my tiny bones snap under the force of those solid rods ,four times the size of my puny fists .
Maintaining my most ‘menacing’ posture, with my diminutive stature ,the aftermath mock went that i
looked like a timid giraffe ,a wobbly calf…a cornered prey.

Unfinished Piece November.

Poetry Monarch.

Unfinished Piece November (Curtain )

Curtain – piece of cloth intended to block or obscure light.

My Grandmother’s Definition – The face of a home,the representative of the interior, the first and only thing from the inside that anyone can see from the outside.

Hood/Slums Definition – A tavern regular (always there)

This piece has been around since i was in grade 9.

Curtain

The first time visiting my cousins for summer holidays,we went to this local alcohol den, a decrepit slum that looked like it survived years of consecutive tsunamis,
Before we sat down and enjoyed our strong black label lager,they looked at me with their piercing dagger eyes and demanded my full attention, they made me swear i would never stray from their very precise warning. When i finally agreed, i was warned to stay away from a certain ‘curtain’
That being my first time in place of that sort,not familiar with the jargon, i thought it was probably because she was the most prettiest person in that Tavern,
No inhibitions, no luxury,she wore her excessive confidence as an expensive fragrance. Her routines were short and intriguing whenever she decided to dance,she could twirl her waist as if it was mounted on a socket ,those luring occasional jerks and seductive twerks, that seemed to ignite sparks and exude a magnetic energy that captured the eye of naive admirer ,and of course, the prying eyes of the husbands who left their wives to seek pleasure where it is served without commitment.
Every time her body bent to the ridiculously fast music,it charged the air around her..
I realised after some time of indulging on her agile and smooth dance moves,that it was not how less she wore that i found appealing,but how much she kept hidden behind that bibulous state she gave a bit of herself every night to maintain .

Ufinished Piece November.

Poetry Monarch.

Unfinished Pieces November (Mama)

I am 6 days late,i meant to make November a month of letting go,the most important part in the process of recreation. I read once ,from a beautifully written drabble that unfinished pieces are like puzzles of a beautiful picture. Frustrating ,irksome and dreadful when you’re still trying to put your pieces together, but the end product is always worth it. They might be helpful in my writing at a later stage, i fully concur. But i feel like they are holding me back,quelling the urge to recreate and reinvent ,leaving no space for growth.
So this here is what i have been miserably dwelling on for a whole year and few months .Enjoy.

-MAMA

Mama needed not to be verbal to warn us,

It took one fierce facial expression to make us repent….
..that fiery stare ,

Eyes glittering with calm rage ,her deep brown lenses on pure white retinas flashing alert lights like pulsing arteries ..

Gritted teeth ,and taut forehead muscles bulging.
An intense moment of silence that screams:
“Retreat…or face the wrath of the stir!”

It still astounds me how that wooden spoon would suddenly appear,
Or how Mama’s rage would quickly dissolve into the thin air.

Unfinished Pieces November.

Poetry Monarch.