The debate on Romance has been on going for centuries now, and it seems the battle may not end any time soon. The jury, perhaps, have still not found any of the opponents (men and women) argument convincing enough to pronounce judgement in anyone’s favor. More recently, however, the arguments have taken a different shape altogether. The subject matter is now being based more on race, rather than the initial gender. A common example is the case of the modern day African woman perceiving Caucasian men as more romantic than black men. This has prompted my desire to want to address the issue.

Romance, they say is a feeling of excitement and mystery associated with love. Now love, is a universal concept or truth which every single homo-sapien, gay or straight believes in, hence, African men inclusive. However, from the above definition of romance, the major concern here is, do African men attach or show that feeling of “excitement and mystery” to the love that they already believe in? Well, I guess we can find out together.

Mostly, when we talk of men and romance, we invariably talk of the sort of romance women expects from their men.  So what is this feeling of excitement and mystery women expect of their men? Most often, this romance is defined in the context of traditional European women’s term, I call it the fairytale romance – sending flowers and cards, romantic get-away, watching doses of romantic movies, three square meals of calls each day, frequently sending gifts and listening to romantic songs all day or you might even want to be their trey songz or usher and sing for them. This fairytale romance has also been propagated by over centuries’ crusade by romance novels, call it the romanticism crusade. But the question is, has the African man succumb to the might of this holy crusade?

African men, most often than not do not subscribe to this fairytale romance and hence being generally labeled unromantic. And let me not forget to mention that I am one of this apparently unromantic homo-sapiens with Y-chromosome.

Here’s a poorly kept secret: Men, and for that matter African men also have traces of Venus in them. That is what I have learnt after some few year of loving. Though African men look too manly physically, beneath the stubble, boisterous and the Sports addiction, most African men are as confused, vulnerable and romantic as women when it comes to falling in love.

African men, by virtue of tradition tend not to have that fairytale flare towards their women due to the nature and manner in which they where raised. They mostly grow up seeing their mothers being controlled by their fathers and also treated with much importance in the area of education more than the women. So the ‘Man-of-house’ mantra or should I say dogma is something the African man is grappling with in the 21st century when the African woman has become aware and needs romance in her love life. This situation has led to the African man being mostly portrayed as violent, thug, controlling, possessive and always coming through with that baby-mama drama in a relationship.

But regardless of the above, who said the African man is  unromantic? I think the African woman ought to look deeper. The African man is very romantic contrary to views that White men are much romantic than them. Women seem to view romance as a state of being, while men tend to look at it more as a sequence of specific actions. Women share their emotions with greater ease. And a BIG difference is that women get much more excited about planning, say their wedding (even before they have a particular bridegroom in mind). Women consider what you buy or do for them as the measure of the love you have for them. But the African man is mostly a realist. He views those actions as artificial. The African man, instead of buying gifts for his woman, concentrates on the longer term picture of building a home for her and the children, provide long term protection and love for her. What is more romantic than this considering the fact that divorce rate is significantly high among white families who supposedly have romantic husbands? African men or black men also have the most sexiest and romantic 3D physical appearance on earth. And this is evidence in the fact that most white women would pay to date them. Black, they say is beautiful and if the women agree to this, then there is not much to say for them to concur that the African has the most romantic color on earth. Forget the novellas; African men could kill if their women are played with. This shows the level of love the African man has compared to what our ladies see in the movies. The African man would also be willing to buy or do everything for his woman but he only believes she should earn it instead of asking for it.

Finally, i think the African women should be more realistic when it comes to the issue of romance instead of thinking the whites acts romantic in their daily lives as seen in the tele-novellas and movies. They should also focus on building that romance they want in their relationships rather than expecting to get it from their men. Romance is built, not earned. A long lasting, peaceful and understanding relationship is the most romantic in my view as an African. Let us collaborate and build one. Peace.



CARPE DIEM (Seize the Opportunity)


Seize the opportunity

I say…

Seize the opportunity.

I hear…

This words ringing in my ears day and night,

Urging me to step up and take up my game up when it comes up my way up….

Seize the opportunity.

So I…

Set up traps to trap and tap into opportunities as they come my way in my daily actions

I seize the opportunity.

‘Cos a wise man once told me that

That lady called opportunity cums but once

So I…

Prepared to cum quick and once when I chance on one

And I plan to make the moment worthy

I seize the opportunity……

Then I ejaculate into her so she bares me fruit.

So seize the opportunity

I say…

Seize the opportunity.

Zoom on it like a lion even if the opportunity is garbage

Do not wait for the best of times

For the worst of times and the best of times

Are all called TIME….

So make every moment in time worthy

Seize the opportunity

Your name might not be STEVE but remember you can also create JOBS

So do not always knock on peoples GATE begging for BILLS for you can also build billions of BILLS and GATE them like BILL GATE seized that MICRO opportunity…

Seize the opportunity.

Be smart for life they say is too short like a midget

But as midget as life may be

We cannot wear her high heels so she looks tall…

Life would forever remain short

So please…

Do not tell me “better late than never”

For “never late is better”…

Seize the opportunity.

Shoot, even if nothing is targeted

Move, even if the path is undefined

Define and find that fine path

And find that fine treasure and nurture

For opportunities are like seeds

They shall eventually become the greatest oaks in the wild




My way of love has always been my weakness.
So I vowed never to sing of it again.
For as long and loud as I have sang, no one seems to understand my version of this old desolate song.
Anytime I try singing, it only comes back as echoes to no one’s understanding but me.
“Maybe the gods never created my eve”, I will sometimes wonder.
Moments came when my voice would give up.
But deep in my prayers, an angel’s whisper urges me to keep singing.
On and on I kept this version playing.
Hoping to find someone to decipher this codes I transmit in keys and notes.
Someone to understand my apparent unintelligible verses. Someone to smile and dance to my tune of love……..
On this divine quest I sang on.
And lo!, from nowhere emerged this Empress.
With a complimentary lullaby that I realize gave meaning to my song.
Promising to lay my weakness to a blissful sleep.
With dreams filled with daylight drums of joy.
She immediately dissolved my weakness and became my strength……..
I quickly asked a duo of us
But my hopes lingered when she said the stars had aligned her lullaby with a different song.
She loves my song but unable to sing with me.
She also realized we are like Siamese and we’ll go platinum together.
But she feared offending the gods of the stars.
I have now become an innocent eternal prisoner to her love.
She is now my new weakness again.
For she killed my previous weakness and became my new weakness.
You see, Its not her beauty but her real self is the sting of love that keeps sinking deep into the soft tissue of my innocent heart each day that passes by.
I pray the gods daily to align the stars in my favor.
So she never doubt this aching of my heart.
Since nobody can bear to hear the burden of my song but her.
I will give thanks to the gods come that day.
For I will say I sang of my weakness and only this Empress could relate to it.
And changed my cacophonous song to sweet melody, Replaced my thunder with tinkling laughter
And Lightening to twinkling eyes……….
But until that day, she still remains my WEAKNESS.


Before the black star shined and the lights left our shores
There were stories of how it came to pass out along the coast of gold
coast as we boast of our reach culture
Tradition ran it course
Until the lights
The lights our shores they raided
Reminding us of how mayflower moved in to deflower the virgin lands of
the red indians
They stole us and they used us
They used us for their selfish interest
Feeding on our ignorance like parasites…
And there are rumours
There are rumours
That the thoughts we are having aren’t even our own
And the dream you had last night is a future you remember
Or a past that is yet to come…
Before the black star shined and the lights left our shores
There were records recalling reports of how it happened across the
boarders in Europe
when our warriors left our shores to fight the two wars
As buried cold war nightmares shoke themselves awake
And a poison stew came to the boil
The walls of Belin and Hiroshima were not denied
As decades of testosterone fuelled war tore at the earth’s surface…
And there are rumours
There are rumours
That the future we dream for Africa is a neglected past reality
And the minority black are quickly becoming a fading product of oblivion
Or a threat to the human race…
Before the black star shined and the lights left our shores
There were tell-tales telling tales of how the black women told their
men they were tired of the missionaries position as leaders on their
own land
And a stray gunfire was heard across the boarders in Ashanti
As Asantewaa yaa led the coward men to battle and reclaim their land
And those men are now called the big six…
But there are rumours
There are rumours
That they are preventing the black star from shining
And that this piece is only a blueprint to a treasure unhidden
So before the black star stops shining and the lights return to our shores
Let’s sit closely by the fire side tonight
On our little patch of land
And reflect on how to make the black star shine again
Before the black star shines and the lights leave our shores…..


Say No, No, No!…

Say it, I mean it

Say it and don’t hesitate

No is next to the shortest word in the English language

It is the concentrated declaration of independence of the human soul

It is the central citadel of character and can remain impregnable forever

It is the only path to reformation

It is the steel guard of strength, the pyrometer of temperament, the electric indicator of moral pulse…

It is an automatic “safety first” device

Say it, I mean it

Say it and don’t hesitate

It has saved more women from losing their pride on several nights of Calvary

It has kept millions of young men from the peer pressures of drunkenness, promiscuity and passion

It is the lone guard of the castle of self respect

It is the dragon that guards beauty’s tower

It is the high fence that preserves the innocence of the


Say it, I mean it

Say it and don’t hesitate

It is the thick wall of the home… keeping the father from fallen, the mother from indiscretion, the boys from weed and

the girls from shame

It is the one word you can only say when you can’t think of

anything else

“NO”, is the new found power of the soul

Say it, I mean it

Say it and look your man in the eye

The woman who can say “NO”, carries her big breast ashore

Say it and don’t hesitate

A good round “NO”, is the most effective tool for breaking the limits of human weakness

In the great parliament of life, the “NO”s have it

They determine what should be and what should not

So say it, I mean it

Say it and don’t hesitate

Say it and look your demons in the eye…

Remember NO is change and change is NO

In the absence of “NO”s, nothing changes, nothing, nothing….

The status quo would remain unchallenged

The guinea worm would still burrow into marrows

Evil will still feed on apathy

Nothing would change, nothing, nothing at all….

Countless hails of “NO” ended slavery, colonialism and apartheid

Say it, I mean it

To be outstanding is determined by the number of “NO”s that primes

Nkrumah said it

Rosa parks said it

Mandela said it

Marcus Garvey said it

Great leaders said it and caused the wind of change to blow….

So say it!

The value of any year you alter is measured by the number of “NO”s that binds

Live your own life, make your own resolutions, mark-up your own program, aim at your own work, determine your own

contacts and plant all round “NO”s….an impregnable hedge of “NO”s with the single undisputable, untouchable syllable…”NO”!!!

Say “YES” only when it matters most

But the “No-man” I say progresses under his own wings

He is not pushed around or ordered about

So say it and stand your grounds

Say it and cause a great change in your life and that of mankind

Say it and don’t hesitate

Say it,

say it and

say it again…

TELL THEM…(my tribute to J.E.A MILLS)

If they ever ask you why we grieve this day

If they ever ask you why we clad ourselves in blacks and reds
If they ever ask you why we cry endlessly in unison,…
Tell them

Tell them neither the heavens nor the earth is at peace this day
Tell them

Tell them when the gods, on the eve of July 24th promised us the sight of the morrow,
They failed to devoid it of sorrow…
Tell them
Tell them we woke up that day but the life of a great one, we could no longer borrow….
Tell them
Tell them the big tree that houses the birds in the forest has fallen
Tell them the mighty oak tree in the ever depleting forest of great men has fallen
Tell them
Tell them every feet this day bare testimony to the hotness of the sun
Tell them our differences matters not this day
For we’v lost a great one
Tell them about that day July 24th
The day the sun didn’t, couldn’t shine
The day the wind held still like a steel
The day the clouds wept ‘cos it could no longer contain it burden…
Oh what a day that day was
The day our better half became our bitter half
The day we said to that man of peace…”Rest in peace”
The day that would forever linger in the sands of time
Tell them we testify this day to the common saying that good things last not longer
Tell them the great prof, the man of peace has joined the ancestors
And so this day we grieve, or else hear grief
We see tears, or else our own
Tell them Africa mourns the life of that great leader
Tell them to join us in saying….
Demirifa du3, du3, du3…May His soul rest in eternal peace!!!


In my quest to find the link between mathematics

and poetry

I employed ratios and angles harmonic to both

I notice the curves and proportions of both

flawless to prove

I measured with care, from apex to base

The arcs and features they possess

Then framed correlated equations to trace their

flowing outlines and found the result very



I started by stating the problem at


Then I realize for a mathematician to conclude on

an equation y=mx+b,

He has to go through various stages

So I begun by employing variables such as


Then I did my additions of words and phrases into

lines and curves to form sentences

Then I substituted synonyms and antonyms, while

simultaneously doing my subtractions,

multiplications and divisions to minimize the long

equation of sentences

Two into one doesn’t go without a decimal

So I put two words into one to make it minimal

To beat your imaginations, I employ metaphorical

symbols such as x, y and z to represent other


Then I integrate similes and speech figures

If I realize my antiderivative doesn’t agree with

the answer to the theme,

Then it means I’ve left a constant,K=Dont deviate

I then incorporate styles to keep you in


By flipping words up-side down into fractions

And blending rationals and irrationals to make

you confuse momentarily

I later group like terms to give you meaning

If I wish to entertain you, I invoke the wonders of


Or I turn the angles at the base of the lines into

musical notes by making it run like the Fibonacci

sequence to rhyme in twos or more

I could also use pentagons to form my binary

rhythms of iambic pentameter

Or find the function of Y on X to give you a

romantic piece

I sometimes use whole numbers one, two,

three….to form stanzas


Then like the mathematician delight at the

elegance of proof,

By laying the “Golden ratio” on everything and see

it fit

And proving the world a sphere with a single


I prove to you perfectly like a rose, the equation of

a masterpiece;

Let M=x+y+z






Then I leave you to identify the variables x,y and z

from what you are reading

And further calculate using the formula given


To see if you just read a MASTERPIECE…..