Random Musings: Happy Thanksgiving Canada!

Happy Thanksgiving

‪#‎FindingTheEXTRAORDINARYinTheOrdinary‬ There’s something magical about thanksgiving, in particular cooking for beloved family and friends. All the clanging of crockery, the loud clunking of pots and pans. The spices floating up our senses and all around the home.

The excited chatter of young and old voices, the sly and naughty peeks into the many pots, still cooking on the stove; tasting a sauce here, a piece of meat there, a still-warm piece of bread, fresh out of the oven.

The beautiful colours of mixed vegetables and herbs and fruits, a splendour to the sight, the aroma of the juices from turkey and chicken and goat meat and sirloin beef…bare hands marinading and infusing the herbs and spices.

And that moment, you realize everything will taste wonderful, not because of the spices but because you hold each person in your heart and you pour in oil and waters of love into each bowl, ech pot, each pan. This is not merely cooking. This is a feast of love, of thanks, a dance of the harvest…

A celebration of the Earth and the Heavens and the stars and the beings orbiting and inhabiting it. Food becomes the medium of love.

In the end, it simply is an opportunity to capture a moment of magic, where we all pause to say: LOVE is the sustenance, family and friends are the reason for being, and GOD is the source of it all. And how blessed are we to be connected to him!

So today, as I get lost in the magic of cooking and cleaning, I celebrate my ALIVENESS. We are here. We are alive. We are thankful. I am grateful for love, all the different flavours and colours of it, even when it doesn’t make sense.

And I am thankful for the chance to dance with angels and gods. Love illuminates. Entrenches itself in us and opens us up to really see life and be extraordinary. Celebrating and thanking God for this inexplicable gift, the breath of my Love, and the life of my days…..

Now, someone please pass me the salt, let’s cook up a storm of love! ~ Cyber-hugs,❤ Jules
‪#‎RandomThingsYouWriteinTheKitchen 🙂

Love, Light & Truth!

Juliet ‘Kego Ume-Onyido

Co-Founder, Whole WoMan Network


126. Floetry by JulietKego: A Perfect Kiss […with the universe]

juliet-kego-ume-onyido-poet-the-home-makerI often think that there’s a sacred time when dusk kisses dawn. And sometimes, you wake up into the arms of the universe and your heart stops as you witness the heaven kiss the earth, in what must be an age-long tradition.

One of many magical moments we miss each day: a kiss with the universe, a dance with the gods, a good night sleep with angels, a mating of dreams to reality, smiling into a giggling sun, flirty touches of the rains, teasing clean smell of the wind, the seduction of a detached and cool earth…

I remember the floating feeling when it hit me that we are each in a love affair with the universe and that nature is an eternal muse, at our beckoning. These are the moments of co-creation, of oneness with all there was, is and will be. Today, I wish you many perfect kisses as you bubble into awareness and embrace the courage to make your dreams and purpose manifest….🙂

#POETRY Floetry by JulietKego: A Perfect Kiss
Some things float….
Some stay rooted…

A perfect kiss 
is you and I, tongued;
how we capture
the blinding force
of the stars with our lips
pathways of fireworks
that sparkle in our eyes
and slowly rumble
in our oesophagus
a gord of emotions rupture
as they tumble
into moans, stirred sighs,
a forgotten tingle
The things that float,
like butterflies and joy
simply mingle
and flow into us in hot spits
and sit in our pits
letting out
every sad thing seated
in every corner and lining
of our hearts and souls
our pinkies and toes shout
and dance with excitement
I lean in, drinking in your scent
and we morph, darling
as if afraid to part
no spaces, both of us, daring
to choke the air
between our jellied form
your fingers in my hair
kneading my scalped heart
I want to crawl into you,
into the secret places
untouched by sun gods
clean out crevices
of all caked tears
rent out hidden fears
and stay here, sated in lust
a being that once floated, lost
now found, rooted in you,
we both hiss
in a perfect kiss
of new-found love
your heaven to my earth

Some things float….
Some stay rooted…

(C) Juliet ‘Kego Ume-Onyido

Poetry Masterclass – Rabindranath Tagore: Unending Love

“Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky.”
― Rabindranath Tagore, Stray Birds
tagorePoem:“Unending Love” by Rabindranath Tagore

I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times…
In life after life, in age after age, forever.
My spellbound heart has made and remade the necklace of songs,
That you take as a gift, wear round your neck in your many forms,
In life after life, in age after age, forever.Whenever I hear old chronicles of love, it’s age-old pain,
It’s ancient tale of being apart or together.
As I stare on and on into the past, in the end you emerge,
Clad in the light of a pole-star, piercing the darkness of time.
You become an image of what is remembered forever.

You and I have floated here on the stream that brings from the fount.
At the heart of time, love of one for another.
We have played along side millions of lovers,
Shared in the same shy sweetness of meeting,
the distressful tears of farewell,
Old love but in shapes that renew and renew forever.

Today it is heaped at your feet, it has found its end in you
The love of all man’s days both past and forever:
Universal joy, universal sorrow, universal life.
The memories of all loves merging with this one love of ours –
And the songs of every poet past and forever.”

Rabindranath Tagore, Selected Poems

#RandomMusingsbyJK: ‪‎Life Lessons at Tea Time‬

Random Musings by JulietKego#‎LifeLessonsAtTeaTime‬ Not everybody will be your cup of tea, just as it’ll be silly to think you can be everybody’s cup of tea. Focus on the tea you love, quit forcing yourself to casually taste (and even drink) all the other teas.

And do not serve or sell your brand of tea to everyone. Seek the ones who naturally love your flavour (or have over time, acquired a good taste for your tea). In fact, it is necessary to point out that not everyone actually likes tea! Don’t take it personal. Allow people the right to their choices, okay?

Plus, know when to serve it hot, lukewarm or iced. For those moments in life when you’re forced to have teas you can’t honestly stand, simply say NO or sip very, very slowly (or add lots of sugar, close your eyes and gulp the darn thing swiftly, the caveat is of course, over time the sugar may be very bad for your health).

However, the sooner you learn to say NO, YOU’ll encounter less of those unsavoury tea-time episodes…Develop the habit of saying yes or no from an authentic space. Clarity about your boundaries attract who and what you want into your spaces. Ambiguity messes up the resonance of your vibrational frequency and simultaneously brings in both gems and craps into your energetic field.  Lol 🙂 ~ @JulietKego

Happy Father’s Day: In My Father’s Robe (Remembrances of a Beloved Father…)

Juliet Kego In my father's robes

On December 5, 2010, a part of me died and rose again, more alive than ever. My father transformed from this formed plane of earthly existence to the formless beauty of the heavens…A day before that, I had launched an organization I co-founded with a friend.

More than anyone on the planet, he knew why this was an important new path for me to walk. I knew I had his unwavering support. During his burial, I had to wear his chieftaincy robe and carry his customized fan. The honour! I really do love certain parts of our culture (not the oppressive, patriarchal, limiting parts…Lol)

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#125. Floetry by JulietKego: Maina’s Message for Mama

RT: @ObyEzeks “OUR of Mbalala village IS BACK!!!!!!! because ” – Twitter, May 18, 2016

 Maina’s Message for Mama

I am a little girl lost,

from Chibok.

I am the core

stench of my nation’s


rotten sore.

Ever since that night,

I dream of my mama

In dreams that I dream

of the dreams

that I dream,

Click Here to Read More

A Grave Conversation Floetry by JulietKego

#123. Floetry by JulietKego: A Grave Conversation

Eve Ensler's Quote on Rape









A Grave Conversation

Do not come to my graveside,

weeping in whispers

afraid he will hear

I am with you child, in every breath

Adanneya, Adannaya

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#NaPoWriMo2016. Day 27 of 30 | Floetry by JulietKego: When I die…


When I die

In Zaria-Delta-Agatu
Chibok-Buni Yadi-Baga

Do not bury me there
beneath the red Earth
Where the scent of fear,
despair and lost hope flirt

Biko nu burn my body
as a peace offering on leaves;
for Afonja and his 80 thieves
feed the marrows of my bones
to our nation’s gathered assembly
of corrupt charlatans and clones

Sprinkle my ashes to cleanse
defiled rivers of my hometown
pour out my blood with incense
to quench the thirst of they who
wear the ruling crown

Offer my heart to the huntsmen
and the herdsmen
in a fair exchange;
-so that the bloody trails of tears
be transformed back into laughter
-that the blood of my children
may cease to spill
-that this ravaged heart hears
songs of peace and may finally heal

when I die
do not trap me
beneath Lugard’s land of lie
Set me free
to roam my homeland’s coasts
one of many, many lost ghosts…

(C) Juliet ‘Kego Ume-Onyido

#NaPoWriMo2016 | Day 21of 30. For a Prince (Rest in Peace: 1958 – 2016)

PRINCE Floetry by JulietKego

“An original is hard to find but easy to recognize.”
~John Mason


For a Prince.

Today, the sun-clouds reign
Draped in purple splendour
Of pearly-shaped diamond stars
A prince sleeps and rests on
Beyond the firmament
Where doves fly.
(C) Juliet ‘Kego Ume-Onyido

“PRINCE; followed by many, follower of no one. Pretty much sums it up.” ~Angela Fritz

An omelette for two

#NaPoWriMo2016 | Day 18 of 30. A short story by Juliet Kego – “An Omelette For Two.”

I’m not sharing poetry today, rather a piece of prose I wrote a while back to celebrate the beauty of love and loss…Enjoy!

A short story: An Omelette For Two.

Mama, Hajia and your little cousin Zain came by yesterday. They said I looked very skinny, sunken eyes and all bones. I don’t want them to worry so. Or move in here and crowd our space. My night cries need no audience. It’s the one time I get to spend with you. With the world dead and oh-so-whispery quiet. And I curl into an oval ball in the middle of our room. A perfect spot for my tears to sing wordless songs that I know only you would understand.

An Omelette for two short story by Juliet KegoSo I got up early today, I made an omelette the way you like them. The way you’d taught me. Over the phone. Our last conversation before you got on the flight home. I’d promised you a hot breakfast in bed. You’d requested that I’d serve it with only a scarf around my neck. You said you found a perfect scarf in the duty-free store. Ah, you are my crazy, crazy heart…

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#NaPoWriMo2016 | Day 9 of 30. Verses by JulietKego: EXPLOSION



When they drop a bomb
in Kandahar,
some splintered shells
touch down in Paris,
fragmented coils
travel to Damascus,
a live lug finds a way
to my backyards in
And then,
it detonates
inside all of us….


#NaPoWriMo2016 | Day 10 of 30. May I feel? By E. E. Cummings (Read by Tome Hiddleston)



So I was too lazy  🙂 decided not to write a poem today and so instead, I spent about an hour listening to sublime poetry readings by the talented Tom Hiddleston. Okay, if you know me well enough, you’d know by now that my #1 pick to read poetry in the whole universe is Mr. Hiddleston. Then, of course there’s Amitabh Bachchan and also Morgan Freeman. Some people have the voice of the gods, period!

Enjoy this sassy and naughty little poem by E. E. Cummings: MAY I FEEL?

Listen to the Audio version as read by Tom Hiddleston:

May I feel said he
(I’ll squeal said she
Just once said he)

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#NaPoWriMo2016 | Day 8 of 30. Verses by JulietKego: Panama Palava

Verses by JulietKego: Panama Palava
Fair strangers
our soul (or so tried)
and our sons;
brothers from our clan
knurled and minced
our muscled hearts
then drank up the blood
that flowed to give us life
fair and dark,
we cannot tell them apart
both raped our valleys
and pillaged our earths.
(C) Juliet Kego Ume-Onyido

#RandomMusings: Social Media Vacation, Tanking Economy and Finding Joy in Between…

Every once in a while I take a social media retreat. I reboot my social media platforms and start all over from the scratch to rebuild both my friends’ list and content. This period qualifies as one of my ‘once in a while.’ (Connect with me via email, phone, messenger etc.)

There’s a lot of economic hardship all over the land, and often this means more people flock to social media to escape the grind of reality. And it is easy for everyone to start pointing fingers, but that never solved anything. Please, be gentle with and empathetic towards people, most are dealing with different stressors, it just shows up join different ways. Be kind to yourself too. Both in the real and cyber-worlds.

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#NaPoWriMo2016 | Day 6 of 30. Write a Poem about Food

Rather than write a poem, I choose to share a piece of prose about food. The very art and science of planting, nurturing, harvesting, preparing, cooking and eating food has always fascinated me. I’m an avid foodie and love to taste and connect with different cultures in the seductive tongues of their spices, grains, vegetables, fruits, meats, etc.

[The piece below was previously published for thanksgiving celebrations in Oct 2015].

There’s something magical about cooking for beloved family and friends. All the clanging of crockery, the loud clunking of pots and pans. The spices floating up our senses and all around the home.

The excited chatter of young and old voices, the sly and naughty peeks into the many pots, still cooking on the stove; tasting a sauce here, a piece of meat there, a still-warm piece of bread, fresh out of the oven.

The beautiful colours of mixed vegetables and herbs and fruits, a splendour to the sight, the aroma of the juices from turkey and chicken and goat meat and sirloin beef…bare hands marinading and infusing the herbs and spices.

And that moment, you realize everything will taste wonderful, not because of the spices but because you hold each person in your heart and you pour in oil and waters of love into each bowl, ech pot, each pan. This is not merely cooking. This is a feast of love, of thanks, a dance of the harvest…

A celebration of the Earth and the Heavens and the stars and the beings orbiting and inhabiting it. Food becomes the medium of love.

In the end, it simply is an opportunity to capture a moment of magic, where we all pause to say: LOVE is the sustenance, family and friends are the reason for being, and GOD is the source of it all. And how blessed are we to be connected to him!

So today, as I get lost in the magic of cooking and cleaning, I celebrate my ALIVENESS. We are here. We are alive. We are thankful. I am grateful for love, all the different flavours and colours of it, even when it doesn’t make sense.

And I am thankful for the chance we all get to dance with angels and gods. Love illuminates. Entrenches itself in us and opens us up to really see life and be extraordinary. Celebrating and thanking God for these inexplicable gifts…..

Now, someone please pass me the salt, let’s cook up a storm of love! ~ Cyber-hugs,❤ Jules

(C) Juliet ‘Kego Ume-Onyido


And now, our (optional) prompt! Today, I challenge you to write a poem about food. This could be a poem about a particular food, or about your relationship to food in general. Or it could simply be a poem relating an incident that involves food, like David Ignatow’s “The Bagel”. Still not convinced? Perhaps these thirteen food poems will give you some inspiration. Happy writing!

#NaPoWriMo2016 | Day 5 of 30. #125. Floetry by JulietKego: Her Tomatoes

Poems about Tomatoes NaPoWriMo Floetry by JulietKego

Sometimes, a toto tomato
is not a flaming reddish hue
because she is ripe
and ready for plucking…
Sometimes, she’s bleeding
from the inside
and it stains her life;
bruises her skin…

Her colours change
(like weathered ivory or fish
split open and bared,
punished by uncaring sons suns)

Her seeds darken
because of all the hungry,
dirty, harsh hands
that ywanked at her;
pricked, pierced
and fondled her,
into a forced,
rude ripening
of a dead awakening…

(C) Juliet ‘Kego Ume-Onyido



And now, our (optional, as always) daily prompt! April is a time for planting things (at least where I am, in Washington DC – you may still be waiting for spring, or well into some other season!) At any rate, I’ve recently been paging through seed catalogs, many of which feature “heirloom” seeds with fabulous names. Consider the “Old Ivory Egg” tomato, the “Ozark Razorback” or “Fast Lady” cow-pea, “Neal’s Paymaster” dent corn, or the “Tongues of Fire” bush bean. Today, I challenge you to spend some time looking at the names of heirloom plants, and write a poem that takes its inspiration from, or incorporates the name of, one or more of these garden rarities. To help you out, here are links to the Southern Exposure Seed Exchange and the Baker Creek Seed Company. Also, here’s a hint – tomatoes seem to be prime territory for elaborate names. And who knows, maybe you’ll even find something to plant in your garden! Happy writing!

#NaPoWriMo. Day 4 of 30 |#124. Floetry by JulietKego: Heart break (…in slow motion)

A Grave Conversation Floetry by JulietKego

Floetry by JulietKego:

#124. Heatbreak…. in slow motion.

Alone in April,
On a fool’s day
As spring ushers in
cold memories of winter
My hands reach for a decanter
my colourless brandy’s gone
And so are the whites

Click Here to read more

Wild Heart; Gipsy Soul Floetry by Juliet Kego

#NaPoWriMo. Day 3 of 30| #123. Floetry by JulietKego: Wild Heart; Gypsy Soul

#NaPoWriMo Day 3

Floetry by JulietKego:
Wild Heart; Gypsy Soul

You will find her heart
in fierce, gentle strokes
of her vivid and shy art..

#122. Floetry by JulietKego – Sons and Daughters of Okigbo

No man can outwit the ancestors Quote

#NaPoWriMo Day 2

[This is not a poem; it is Floetry inspired by true events].

At Okigbo’s shrine
seeds of his loins gathered
and called out to him:


“Nna anyi! Nna anyi!
Ifekandu, hear us.
Biko nu, mere anyi Ebele.
Do not look away.
Mbah nu.
Your son is desecrating
the waters
The priestesses find his semen
in the holiest of rivers
His seeds scattered
across the land
(lost in the fields of shame)
Does he not know
they each carry his gifts?
That we must find them
to raise them?
Alu na eme n’obodo anyi”

Continue reading

#117. Floetry by JulietKego: HEAVEN’S GATE

Heaven's Gate Floetry by Juliet Kego


Floetry by JulietKego:

Let’s take a tour
on angels’ route
as faith takes root
demons make a detour
at the crossroads junction
where the holy unction
releases waters and oils

Hold your cynicism
at the holy exorcism
of the hellhound’s foils
there, at heavens’ gate
witness a reversal of fate
for fair Lucifer’s lair
won’t get a lock of hair

And sinner’s souls’ shell
burnt in their pits of hell
as offering to a dead Baal
the once lost possessed
now repossessed

By a ghost’s holy light,
won on a cross by his fight
at the trumpets, knees shall
bow, tongues sing alleluia
at the divine mercy of Jehovah.

(C) Juliet ‘Kego Ume-Onyido

#PoetryMasterclass – Chinua Achebe: For the love of Poetry

#LostInAchebe ‪#‎NPM16‬ ‪#‎CelebratingPoetry‬ He is known as one of Africa’s most celebrated prose writers and yet POETRY was Chinua Achebe’s first love.
I stumbled upon this website (www.brainpickings.org) and had a feast on Achebe’s poetry. In particular, his poem “Remembrance Day” struck a deep chord.
Come June 4th, I’ll be part of a team organizing the Annual Biafran Memorial Day Event in Toronto. Achebe’s reminder of what an honourable remembrance day celebration should be to all Igbos is both timely and necessary.
“We called him:
and, you know, all the other naries
that plague the peace…”
~ Chinua Achebe [From his poem: “We Laughed at Him”]


[The audio source: Soundcloud account of http://www.brainpickings.org]

#120. Floetry by JulietKego: WAITING FOR A KING

Anna Daughter of Penuel Poem by Juliet Kego

Floetry by JulietKego: WAITING FOR A KING

[For beloved Anna, the daughter of Penuel, of the tribe of Asher].

Passion and pain.
Love and heartbreak.
Sunny skies and rain.
Kpangolo and gold.
Broken and then whole.
My life traded and sold.
The longing on your face,
etched in linings of my soul,
all of time cannot erase.
Streaks of tears, more tears.
I find you, seven years of joy
and in the same breath,
I weep with the loss
of letting you go
Bereft. Widowed.


Steeped in stirrings
that shamelessly show
as stains of pooled heat
in damp, hidden grooves
Burning and then cold
I cannot touch myself.
I live untouched.
In the centre of my life
a gaping, gasping hole
The seasons roll
one to the other.
And now, I am old.
Seven by twelve seasons;
Eighty-four years old.
Pray. Fast. Offer. Wait;
Waiting and longing.
Till one day, I behold him
in the temple and I live again.
Aye, this love, beloved Isa,
the passion and pain
via dolorosa;
’tis the way of our cross…

(C) Juliet ‘Kego Ume-Onyido

#116. Floetry by JulietKego: BE A MAN; because boys don’t cry?

BE A MAN; Because boys don’t cry?


A broken mantra-hymn
Chant it, feed it to him
Command him
To be a manned-robot:
“Be ye Strong,
Son, you can do no wrong
Mask your heart sore
Be soul-less, Ego-more
Like an erection
Be all cold and hard
Screw up your balls
With nuts of macho steel
Choke on that man-pride
Fears are alien; so them hide
Swallow, piss out tears un-cried
Be a man; who says boys cry too
Or have their hearts broken in two?”


Yes sisters, on golden pedestals
Raise him up high like Baal, your King
Build a burn-fire, form a worship ring
Disrobe of your common sense
At his feet open up your petals
Pour your fluids laced with incense
Bind him to breasts; shackled, seduced
And when the suns of your sin melt
His faux gold-covered shield, pelt
Him with curses, as he is reduced
To the lost boy you fed a poisoned lie:
“Be ye Strong,
Son, do no wrong
To be vulnerable is weak..”

And now behold your god of man,
all broken up and sick!


(C) Juliet ‘Kego Ume-Onyido

#115. Floetry by JulietKego: Shattering The Silence

Shattering The Silence

Shattering the silence; For R.

The glass case splintered
And I thought her heart
Would break apart
Into nothingness
From the clawing
Lugubrious loneliness
I was here, there
And I was afraid
Of the quaking raid
I did not show my fear
It was a lump of brick
Choking me
Like a forced prick
Just before my throat
Raping my mouth; Killing me

Continue reading

Poetry Verses by JulietKego: A Chandelier of Glassed Dreams

#POETRY #RandomMusings: Sometimes, do you feel like floating up into the skies, languorous, lazy, living without conscious thoughts and worries? Certain, with an inate knowing that everything will align perfectly for your own good? That nothing is an accident rather all of life is synchronistic in it’s poetry? …

Today’s is like that. I see only beautiful people and stories all around me. It’s like all the ugliness that exists in my world are being washed away by fresh, cool rains and all the deepest, dormant dreams are springing forth.

Like I died and was crushed into a tiny seed, buried into the ground and suddenly, I can see myself from afar, watering the earth with exhilarating tears of joy, watching me bloom with love and new life. And in its wake a new type of CLARITY births!

Have a fabulous Sunday and week ahead y’all. No matter what storms you may face, know that this too shall pass. Embrace the storms, so that when you tell the story, it will be done with a keen awareness of everything you felt.

To feel deeply; sadness, confusion, overwhelm, passion, pain, anger, hurt, guilt, shame, freedom, shadow, light, love and joy…and to finally realize that this ability to feel and connect is one of the greatest gifts of humanity.

Perhaps, it is from this gestalt of emotions that vulnerable sacred spaces emerge so that we may create indescribable beauty and treat one another with compassion, empathy and forgiveness, even when we hold space for accountability, responsibility and surrendering. So channel it all and CREATE! ~ Cyber-hugs, < JulietKego | The Reminderist™

A Chandelier of Glassed Dreams -Floetry by JulietKego

#111/114. Floetry by JulietKego: A Bouquet of Poems

Juliet Kego Ume-Onyido

I found a bouquet of Earth’s 7 poems
resting on my doorsteps
One for each layer of creation….


The air in Judea came alive
with perfumes of your poems
fresh, humble hibiscus,
giving, gazing gardenias,
wise izoras, pink thorny roses
Just a hint of flirty lilies,
a wisp of zany zinnias,
a smiling sunflower,
all laced up in a vase,
filled with the aromas
of your presence, Isa
I am aunt Elizabeth,
John and I danced
In joy when you came


I inhale a fragrance of your words
and exhale secrets from my heart
I hear the soundless echoes
of forgotten names of my soul
and the universe whispered
gently back to me
mysteries of the tastes and
innocent beauty of you;
In seasons past
and in lifetimes to come
And I, a virgin took you in


I touched your garment
in the unfolding petals
and in faithful, sturdy stems
pricked by your crazy thorns
piqued, for I see all our hues
the mad mystery of you and I
caught in this bouquet of love
I heave, I sigh, shaking my head
Dreams collapse, reality in its stead
I am a woman healed;
a heart’s hemorrhage ceased


Sleep floats away
Words take her place…


A bouquet of your poems
I inhale their perfumes
Spicy, sweet, sharp,
Stinging, soothing,
The dams burst and
I curl up and weep
I am Martha at your feet…


Like a sardine of songs
Packed into the spaces
Of a scattered mind
Their oils pour out
Spilling into and staining
My wall-less nights and days
Fingers cannot keep up
With the flood of words
I am drowning here
In an angry storm-sea of love
I am the lady of Magdala
Watching you, nailed to the cross,
My sweet saviour, BEloved lsa…


I should have engraved
Your poems only
as temporary tattoos
on my forearms
Now I find your image still here
Deeply entrenched,
Permanently etched
Into the walls of my heart
I am Veronica’s heart
You engraved your face in me…


And I cannot get you out
of the linings of my soul
Unless love ends;
or I cease to breathe
Confused, I pause;
I inhale; I decide to live
I exhale; I choose to love
And so I know
That I shall carry you around
All the life of my days
Like a mesh of beautifully
knotted, stirring, aches
I am Bethsheba, cleansed anew
As I bathe in the light of your love…


Sleep floats away
and love takes her place.


Today, BEloved ISA
I woke up to the sounds
of 7 poems weeping in my heart
Their tears, a reminder….
(C) Juliet Kego Ume-Onyido

#RandomMusings by JulietKego: On Jim Nwobodo, cross-carpeting and the failure in leadership.

Candidates For Psychiatric Evaluation ‪#‎MakeRoomInAROMentalFacility‬

‪#‎OurLeadersHaveGoneStarkRavingMad‬!!Jim Nwobodo was recently named by embattled former National Security Adviser (NSA) Col. Sambo Dasuki (rtd) among those who benefited from the multi-billion naira Armsgate fraud, currently being investigated by the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC).
The former Governor denied any wrongdoing, saying that the N500 million released to him by the NSA was meant for PDP leaders in the South-East to mobilize support for the re-election of Goodluck Jonathan as President in the 2015 election.

“I am not looking for a job. I am talking because I want peace. I want our people to be part of the Federal Government at the centre. I had a problem being an opposition Governor. I am not coming into APC because I want anything. I want our people to reintegrate and have our own share of the Federal Government resources.” ~ Jim Nwobodo [Source: Today.ng]

I don’t know whether to weep or laugh hysterically! I’m totally flabbergasted. O gini di ife a?? What levels of DENIAL and DELUSION are these folks operating under? What crazy alchemy is let loose in the synaptic gaps of their cells? How messed up are their neurotransmitters? I was waiting for some core ideological shifts, a value construct or belief system that propelled this move and we get this inane dribble? Are you kidding me? Hear, hear him: ‘I want our people to reintegrate and have our own share of the Federal Government resources…” So this is all about getting a share of juicy mangoes and yams?

These are the words of a 75-year old man! A former Governor AND Senator of the federal Republic. A founding member of PDP. I am outraged that this joke of a human being shames Ndi Igbo, and in fact ALL well-meaning Nigerians, by using the ‘OUR PEOPLE…REINTEGRATE…SHARE OF THE FEDERAL GOVT RESOURCES’ sickening lines!! 500 million squandered on ‘South East Leaders!’ May we please know the names of all these greedy sickos who’ve held us down for ages?

These are the men/women 30,000 Biafra Agitators should really be attacking and demonstrating against. I do not want to wish anyone evil, so I’ll hold my tongue! 500 Million of our national wealth shared among fools and charlatans in a zone with bad roads, poor water supply, out-of-kids- school, poor health infrastructure, ill-equipped/poorly trained teachers, imagine if that was used for a micro collaborative technology hub for Youths in Enugu ….

Ah my beloved, battered Naija! We must have a wall of shame to call out these folks!! Mr Jim Nwobodo, sir, with all due respect, as an Igbo lady, you do not in anyway speak for me or represent me. Not at all!!

I appreciate that he handed over power peacefully, he may even be a good man but in my opinion (and I may be wrong), GEJ was a weak, corrupt and misguided leader, with zero creativity. Just like almost all the leaders before him. That’s exactly why we are where we are today. How can you simply spend money to buy votes when all you had to do was actually plough those funds in developmental projects and leave a worthy legacy?? I don’t get the logic at all!!

Did he not read up about Awolowo, Michael Okpara, et al? A first-time South-South leader! He had a chance to transform that zone into the envy of the world and couldn’t even clean up Ogoniland! Chinua Achebe got it right: “The problem with Nigeria is simply a failure of leadership.” The caveat of course, is that we are all leaders! #APrayer4NigeriaInDistress

Juliet ‘Kego Ume-Onyido
(You may also find me here: http://www.wholewomannetwork.org)

#68. Floetry by JulietKego: If I Die Again… (Destination: France and not Baga)!


I AM BAGA - Floetry by JulietKego

Two, Two hundred or Two thousand?
We debate numbers, carelessly offhand.
In an orgy of violence, in this desolate land,
while children are slaughtered like salah rams

In numbers to rival Bar beach grains of sand
and the zoo masters feed off goats and yams
So if I must die, and die, one day I must
I fear not, either a svelte bomb or a crude dagger

I ask for this one wish; honour my plea in trust
Let me die in far away Paris, not here in Baga
Here sons, now enemies; Boko Haramites
multiply like an army of fornicating termites

Take me there, far, far away from here.
For here, many the toga of terrorists bear
it is becoming so very hazy for me to really tell
between Dasukis and his many master-devils

A case of who is evil and who is purely evil?
All parties sullied, to darkness their souls did sell
Here, they piss, shit and spit on my grave
In this town I am ignored, cruelly scorned

Take me to France, lay me under Eiffel’s cave
Where I shall be honoured and mourned
by one million souls who’ll remember my face
CNN will call my name from sea to sea

Even old Fox will fold me in her cold embrace
while Dokpesi and NTA air Liverpool-Chelsea
matches and owambes; political parties’ campaign
And drink of my blood mixed with fine champagne

And on my grave they gladly, gleefully dance
Hapless, to deaf ears may I not plaintively cry
for between cowardice and cluelessness, I die
If I die, do not bury me in baga,
take me far, far away from Naija….

© Juliet ‘Kego Ume-Onyido (All rights reserved).

#55. Floetry by JulietKego: The Saddest Note We Ever Heard.


Saddest Note

The Saddest Note We Ever Heard


The choir hummed a halting hymn
The organist played a pretty note
And we all waited for her to sing
And yet the only lyrics
That escaped her dry, parched tongue

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Juliet Kego Picture With Ivory Scarf

#118. Floetry by JulietKego: I.Love.You

‪#‎ThisIsNotAPoem‬ ‪#‎RandomMusings‬
Floetry by JulietKego: I.Love.You
It is not a declaration
Or a proclamation
It is not a place
Or a feeling
Or a thought
or a thing
or words
Or a phase
or a meaning-less-ful phrase
or a craze
or magic
or madness
It is not about me
or about you
or about love
It is not to be connected
or pieced apart
or to be analyzed
or proved
or justified
It is not about truths or lies
It is not a blame
or a name
or a game
or a journey
or a destination
or a complication
It is not about worthiness
Or brokenness
or being lost or found
or falling or rising
or right or wrong
It is simply this:
Here. There.
Nowhere. Everywhere
Simple. Simply.This;
I.Love.You. :-)
(C) Juliet ‘Kego Ume-Onyido

#PoetryMasterclass. Poem: Tonight I Can Write The Saddest Lines by Pablo Neruda

Tonight I Can Write The Saddest Lines – by Pablo Neruda

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
Write, for example,’The night is shattered
and the blue stars shiver in the distance.’

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Through nights like this one I held her in my arms
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

She loved me sometimes, and I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.

To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is shattered and she is not with me.

This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

My sight searches for her as though to go to her.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.

I no longer love her, that’s certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.

Another’s. She will be another’s. Like my kisses before.
Her voice. Her bright body. Her inifinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that’s certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.


Are you an African Poet? Enjoy Olu Oguibe’s post about a Poetry Masterclass he attended…

Some posts you read on Facebook and you immediately go GBAM!! I saw this on Olu Oguibe’s wall and simply had to share. I also particularly love the engaging conversation it opened up on his thread. Lot’s to think about. Enjoy!

[Culled from the Facebook Page of Olu Oguibe on December 27, 2015 at 8.30 am EST]. Shared with permission from the writer. Follow Olu Oguibe on Facebook by Clicking Here.

A couple of months ago, I attended a public lecture in the English Department at my college. The lecture was given by an emeritus professor, who’s also Connecticut’s most prominent contemporary poet. I was never a fan of her poetry because she writes in a vein that few Africans from the Continent relate to, but that’s exactly why I made a point of attending the lecture.

Click Here to Read More

Juliet Kego Ume-Onyido

#117. Floetry by JulietKego: Season of My Love


In the season when I first loved you
I swear I heard a sigh from the lady rain
as she wept non stop, (unlady-like), out loud
I guess from the fullness of your man cloud
Perhaps like me, she could not contain
the sight of your beauty-powered grace

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DigitalBackBooks.com – Discover Africa’s Stories.

#‎AfricanStories‬ ‪#‎PostcardsFromAfrica‬

I’ve always believed and harped on the fact that as Africans, we have to begin to tell empowering and more complete stories about ourselves. And also, to use more creative platforms to tell these stories, in order to be more relatable, accessible and in effect, a reach a wider audience. Watching Chimamanda Adichie’s brilliant TED Talk: The Danger of a Single Story, cemented this belief for me.

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#Letters2ISA #POETRY #18. A Song For Lovers: I Choose You!


Day 2. NaPoWriMo- Celebrate Poetry, All Month Long!

Poem: A Song For Lovers: I Choose You!

Dear Isa,

There was no music
and yet we danced to our own beats
We swayed sensually to the rhythm
of our fired pulses ‘n’ heartbeats
I shall remember these moments,
I’ll freeze them in timeless space
Especially the sacred hour
I looked into your soul and saw my own face

Continue reading

YOUR LAUGHTER- Floetry by JulietKego

#116. Floetry by JulietKego: Your Laughter

Your Laughter

One day I will write
Your laughter into words
Capture how your larynx opens
Like an unfolding petal to my sun
How your throat swallows my air
as it convulses in mirth,
And on your cheeks
Unformed dipped-in dimples

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#RandomMusings Elnathan John’s Born on a Tuesday sheds some light on the Northern Experience (Almajiri, Fundamentalism, Faith, Family….)

Born on a Tuesday by Elnathan JohnBetween my dear friend Adaobi Nkeokelonye’s heart-tugging and brave chronicles of the IDPs in the North and Elnathan John’s new book ‘Born on a Tuesday’, I can confess that I know more now about a part of my homeland and the lives of many of our brothers and sisters than I ever did before.

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#120. Floetry by JulietKego: Foolish and Wise

‪#‎ThisIsNotAPoem‬ #RandomMusings

first love

Foolish, is I
Found not truth
In your doe-eyes
Foolish, is I
Scalded as I tasted hot lies
In your loose tongue
Foolish, is I
Saw but a child
In your man-girth

Wise is I
Give you hot kisses
In honour of my love
Wise is I
Laced my lips
With goodbye rums
Wise is I
Intoxicate you to sleep
As I stealthily slip away

Foolish and wise, I
See scared little you
Simply as you really are
Afraid to grow up or own up

Foolish and wise, I
Listen to your jumbled lies
Still loving you as I let you go

Forever foolish is I
Missing the cold warmth of you
even when you’re not yet gone….


(C) Juliet Kego Ume-Onyido


#RandomMusings. ‪#‎DayofEndingVioleneceAgainstWomen‬‪



I hope that one day, in my lifetime, there won’t be a need to have a day dedicated to #‎EndingVioleneceAgainstWomen‬

Dear beloved sister-friend, if you close your eyes real tight, and shut out the chatter of the world within and around you, I want you to allow yourself remember a time, pre creation, in a timeless dimension, when you were Queen. The daughter of a King. The co-heiress of a kingdom.

If you relaxed enough and become STILL, you will know and remember that time, for that time is always NOW. Walk like the goddess you are, be so rooted in your worthiness and completeness and WHOLENESS that your energetic spaces repels anyone who dares think you lower than you really are or seeks to use force or violence against you. 

Continue reading

#115. Floetry by JulietKego: A Forgotten Queen

Queen Amina

[Image source: Google images, labeled for reuse]

Floetry by JulietKego: A Forgotten Queen

They rave about flame-haired Elizabeth
Gush about her kingdoms from afar,
teach their children to read up on her,
watch reels of her history
And keep no memory of my Zazzau or me,
Of my armies, of my many wars and victories

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Random Musings by @JulietKego: Of History And the Lessons We Fail to Learn


Hate-It-has-caused-a-lot of problems quote by Maya Angelou

Very, very, long post but based on the different stories appearing on my FB timeline, decided to get this out there. Thanks for your patience in reading.

I think one of the biggest tragedies in the Nigerian State is the expunging of history as a taught course in our curriculum. Until we fully come to terms with our past, we are prone to repeating a vicious cycle of mistakes.

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#RandomMusings: Dear Isa, celebrating the eloquence of us…



Dear Isa,

Tell the one whose name you bear that I am grateful for today. Was that you in the soft rains on my face? In the breeze at the back of my earlobe? Filling my heart with quiet when it started to race? They asked so many questions Isa.

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#StandUpAgainstRape #113. Floetry by JulietKego: Blowing Balloons

Sexual Assault
(To all my sisters who’re still finding their way, and forced to blow, my wish and prayer for you is that one day soon, all you’ll ever blow, are your big balloons of dreams….)
Floetry by JulietKego: Blowing Balloons…
When I called you beloved sisters
He tried to convince me you were foes
And he said many vile things about you
Called you bitchy-slutty-whorish-hoes
That you are filled with pits of sin
You are a good-for-nothing, dirty thing
And you’re only great at doing one job
which to simply to blow
I smiled gently into his eyes
And let him spill truthful lies
Beloved sisters, what does he know?

#112. Floetry by JulietKego. In Memoriam – Rivers of Riddles; Thamalakane.

River Thamalakane, Maun Botswana Phot credits - Juliet Kego Ume-Onyido

Rivers of Riddles; Thamalakane.

Tonight, I seek sleep,
on a seabed of water lilies.
No shadows of thoughts,
overflowing my banks.
The river spits out saliva
filled with sea-shells.

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#111. Floetry by JulietKego: Migrant Dreams

Juliet Kego Ume-Onyido Poet In the company of Dreams


I have slept on them all

 I had only you for company…


On a wintry, wrought-iron bed of granite

my head resting on a floor of cold bookcases

Hot tears leaking, staining, melting the wood

torn that my soul did not yet leave my body

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#RandomMusings by JulietKego: On this vexing matter of NEtiquette (Online Etiquette)….


#‎RandomMusing‬ On that vexing issue of adding me to many, many groups…..This is not a rant. But it is very long. Be patient. Y’all know how seriously I take online Etiquette (Netiquette). I did 4 talks at different fora on the subject last year and about 3 so far this year. I think I may have to do a short blog or podcast on it, to bring the blog post alive and reach more people.

Click here to add more

#77. Lagos on my mind; Las Gidi state of mind.

Listen to the AUDIO Version of the poem below.

Juliet Kego Ume-Onyido Poem-Lagos on my mind, Las Gidi state of mind


Las Gidi state of mind

The go – slow; the maddening traffic,

the jarring fast pace,

‘Ojuelegba? ‘Owa, owa’; the yelling and yapping

of crazy Molue and Danfo drivers.

Mama put and isiewu joints,

Amid the stinky smells of oceans and rivers

The fierce, obsessive, relentless race

to outrun giant, gutsy Eko rats

The runs, the hustle, the bustle,

(Eko for show),

Hustlers, hoping to hammer



The Island, high-society; awon big boyz and gals

-Meet Jenifa’s crowd and crew

Caught in the designer madness, the endless chase

Under-the-bridge thugs and day-dreamers,

planning their next strike at the high-rise tricksters;

-the big spenders, the takers, movers and shakers,

moving fast-forward, then lost in reverse.

Rockstar-pastors and their sheeple,

trading big dreams for hard currency,

all in a polluted maze of fleece!



Mainland, Ajegunle – AJ city, Eko Atlantic,

Slum hummers, jungle drummers,

Iyana Ipaja to Ajah, Lekki to Okokomaiko,

I love my Eko o [(♪, ♫)].

The exotic paradise of the combined beat

Shoprite designer rice, side by side with my Agege bread,

Faking it, making it, celebrating the mess and the madness



Aje-butter, aje-pako,

Mushin-living, Louboutins-wearing, accent-forming,

welcome to our crazy land;

Redeemed by our sacred love for this soulful Island!

Tribe and tongue forgotten under the Island heat,

With love and passion we meet and greet,

screaming with swag from afar:

Bawoni? Kedu? How far?

The only currency accepted here are big, bold dreams.



Las Gidi born, Las Gidi bred,

Together, we dare to follow our dreams,

Finding our unique light in the darkness, UP NEPA!

All united in this crazy prayer and anthem:

Eko oni baje o![(♪, ♫)]

Lagos, always on our minds,

eternal dreamers

in a Las Gidi state of mind.

(c) Juliet ‘Kego Ume-Onyido 2015 (All rights reserved).

[Image source: Author’s, self-created; copyright-free content]

Floetry by JulietKego: A Dirge for Nimbo…

childeren of biafra2_June1_2016

Nna anyi who will save
your children from the brink?
A drizzle becomes a flood
and the living-dead drink
from overrun rivers
of tears, pus and blood
I am lost in shivers,
cold from this shock
of an unnamed war
fought in the backyard
of my hometown

Children’s throats slit
like salah rams
(on open fields of rusty, red grass)
Bodies charred;
their ashes sprinkled
to appease
the herdsmen of horror
who lead the flock
to the slaughter-house

The elders, bent over
with agonized chants
from wrinkled
sunken faces
ka udo di, a plea for peace?
Onye ka anyi ga kolu?

A peace of the graveyard
reigns all around me
the graves await their bodies
I am farmished
feed me; biko nyem nri
My throat thirsts for waters
of truth from polluted
rivers of Nri

Oh sons & daughters:
‘Awaken from your limbo
stand tall at the gates
of the weeping hills of Udi
bury the bodies
of our people &
protect the living
at Nimbo.’

(C) Juliet ‘Kego Ume-Onyido