BE WHO YOU ARE

It does not matter who your father is,
Or was. It only matters who you are;
Throw off the reputational burden of his
Life, whether a nobody, a crook or a star.

It does not matter who your mother is,
Was, or will be. You have your own destiny.
Be firm in rejecting her spirit’s liabilities,
Nor bask in her glory. Write your own story.

Never ever allow family to be your bondage.
If wealth is not health, detach and go higher.
The chains of name, blood, and heritage
Are human assumptions, not God’s desire.

God wants each unique creature to be true,
So experience and enrich the world as You.
Free your children too from the Obligation to
Follow, serve, help, complete or redeem you.

If your story happens to be your family’s too,
Then so be it, that’s who you genuinely are.
But if your story is totally different and new,
Don’t feel guilty; accept and be who you are.

Che Chidi Chukwumerije
Poems from the inner river

THICKER THAN BLOOD AND WATER

Brotherhood means to stand and work in the same spirit.
When you are a child, then brotherhood means to be born of the same parent or parents.
But the older one gets, and the more mature one grows; the more one enters into the living gout of one’s destiny, and the more one senses and fulfill one’s destiny, then the less brotherhood remains a being born of the same parents and becomes a standing and working in the same spirit. Spiritual homogeneity is true brotherhood.
The same thing with sisterhood.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije

SOLIDARITY WITH SELF

Your brother in the ghetto
Is still your brother –

He might not have attended
The same type of schools as you did

He might not have acquired
The same kind of polish as you did

He might not even know
That you’re not as different from him

As he thinks
He might think

What you think: you’ve become strangers
No. He is still your brother

And when a bullet comes in the dark
It can’t tell the difference between you and you.

– CHE CHIDI CHUKWUMERIJE.

GHETTO BROTHER

In the ghetto
I get to see
The living me
Watching me with eyes
Wiser than the eyes watching me
Living my thousand lives
While I search in my mind for lies
With which to neutralise
The truth reflected back at me
By the other me.

– CHE CHIDI CHUKWUMERIJE.

MAID

They are nice masters
In this regard she is lucky, I guess
They make her feel at home

When she cooks and cleans
Sings to the baby, feeds the dogs
And the cats and is allowed to watch TV

But when she gets home in the evening
Without electricity, it’s a marvel to her
In the midst of her poverty, to see the joy
In her family’s eyes and to be at home again.

– CHE CHIDI CHUKWUMERIJE.

TWICE IS NOT ENOUGH – pt. 8

… continued from Part Seven.

Those who long shall grow.

The night was young. Young again. The moon, half-full, was banking all alone in the west of heaven, and there was, though no clouds were anywhere to be seen, a distant smell of rain. Sweet night rain, to bear our dreams softly down from heaven and wash our fears away; wash the old year away too and water the seeds of a new one. But the night, for now, was young and eager, eager to look into the homes and hearts of human beings, to know again their story.

Tony sighed – a deep sigh – and turned in for the night, wondering at the destiny that had returned Ngozi into his life.

He said goodnight to Ada and retired to his bedroom.

Quietly Ada watched her brother’s back as he retreated into the bowels of the house in which they lived.

Softly the night crept into the house and touched, as it was touched by, the hearts, the hopes and the everyday history of the human race.

And deep into the night, between midnight and dawn, singing, singing, the rain fell softly down.

… continued in Part Nine.

– AKA TERAKA.

If you want to skip the excerpts and read the full story of this delicate, subtle love story, the novella is availaable on
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Available from December 2013.
TWICE IS NOT ENOUGH.

Twice_Is_Not_Enough_Cover_for_Kindle