Hello readers! Welcome to another GUEST POST WEEKEND here on A Loco Viva Voce. Today’s Guest Post is a poem written by DEJI ADEYEMI.

Deji is the CEO/Lead Editor of The Conversation Series, a rapidly growing company providing editorial services and content development to individuals and companies. A graduate of English Language from the prestigious Obafemi Awolowo University, he is a writer, poet and editor. He is also a blogger and freelance journalist published among others in Nations Newspaper, YouthSpeak Journal, to mention a few. Twitter: @smart_solomon Emails: or Website:

Are you a writer? Or do you know a writer? Email your write-ups to for a chance to have your work published on GUEST POST WEEKEND!

Read Deji’s poem after the cut and enjoy!





I should pray for you,

You who fleas flies,

flees from Belly pot, coated sugar, fleas

Parasites from the thongs of Tartarus

Spurned by Hades,

Unholy quest for the Holy Grail

I should pray for you,

You who birth bombs in your wombs

Decimating to tit-bits country homo-sapiens

Drivers of 2015 Lamborghinis,

On your way to the park to pack

I should pray for you

I should pray for you

Tiny membranes inside starched, bloated agbadas

Shikini abetiajas on hammer heads of horror,

I should pray for you

Full satellite geles on cash heads

Iyalodes and babalajes in the kitchen cupboards

Trice plus one alignment of the moon

Carting the cat’s fried meat in cars

I should pray for you

Big boys and gay girls of the universities

Empty sack of bones, jingling cacophonic bells

Half-baked sugar cakes, guilty, brainy foils of paper

I should pray for you

Eccentric lecturers, enemies of progress

Religions bigots, sanctimonious preachers

I should indeed pray for you.

IT pupils on the on and off switch F

ull grown kids, déjà vu babies

Suited bosses kissing hammock-dressed technicians

“Go reap, where we’ve sown not of course”

Poles and wires pillage and worry the street

Useless to the users, pointless to the pointers

I should pray for you

I wake each day to the cold chills of uncertainty,

Pride of my country unsure of its stakes

Curtains reveal scrawny boys on their tails,

Resigned mothers, never saying never

Hopeless fathers, “do I die before it dies?”

I should indeed pray for you,

Nigeria, my country home.


Quote: “Readers are not necessarily writers but writers must be readers”

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