#BABISHAI2018 SHORTLIST:SALAWU OLAJIDE

Salawu Olajide currently lives in Ife. This is the second time he has been shortlisted for the Babishai Poetry Award. His poems have appeared in Transition,  Saraba, New Orleans Review, Soul-Lit,  Poetry City, Paragrammer and so on. 

Courtesy photo

Q:     What was the process of writing your particular poem, The Music
Man Thinks about Dapchi?

A: The poem stayed in my head for a day after the Dapchi saga. History was repeating itself. You remember Chibok? Anyways, after a day I tried to capture the agony of mother losing their daughters in a country with a loose soul. 

Q:     What does poetry mean to you?

A: Poetry is a life wrapped up in the economy of words.  In its units of metaphors, imagery and linguistic aesthetics, human experiences are locked there in.  

Q:   What are your five year goals with your poetry?

A: All my goals are embedded in one. And that is humanity. And it is a religion we should all embrace which gives me the ability to impact my immediate society and other spaces where my feet have not reached through my writing. This, I seek every day.  And this I will continue to seek. 

Q:.    Which African poets are you keen on reading?

A: Dami Ajayi, Gbenga Adesina, Warsan Shire, Clifton, Ladan Osman,  Shittu Fowora, D. M. Aderibigbe, Adedayo Agarau, Rasaq Malik,  Sadiq Dzukogi... My God, the list is endless. Africa is blessed.

Q: What are some of the challenges you face with poetry?

A: When poems stay too long in my head, I hate it. 

Q:   Is there anything of importance you would like to share with
literature teachers, who are reading this?

A: There is a need to look outside the window and teach new poets who are doing great stuff.
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The #Babishai2018 shortlisted poems can be found here:

#BABISHAI2018 SHORTLIST

We’ll be announcing the winner at the #Babishai2018 poetry festival on 5 August in Mbale.

REX OMONLA: #BABISHAI2018 SHORTLIST

Rex Omonla is a Nigeria born Poet, Essayist and short story writer based in Lagos and high places as the moon, sun and Uranus.

 A blogger. Computer coach. Singer, songwriter. Volleyball and Basketball analyst and a footballer with incredible speed and pace. A Haiku coach and an idealist. Under the name ‘ Obaji-Nwali  Segun he made the 2017 Babishaiku finalist and was longlisted for the annulled 2016 Etisalat flash fiction contest with the story titled ‘Recovering my heart from pleats’. In 2017 his Queer short story ‘Woman is a Beautiful Thing’ was shortlisted  for the Quramo Writers’ Prize Adult Category  but  was withdrawn from the contest a day to the award-giving ceremony for an unknown reason. Under the name Celestine Chimumunefenwaunaya, his poems and short stories  have been published in Tuck Magazine. Under the name Obaji Godwin, his poems and a short story titled ‘How I Decayed, have appeared in Kalahari Review.      

Q: What was the process  of writing your particular poem LIKE TORN KITES IN A HURRICANE?

A:  The birthing of LIKE TORN KITES IN A HURICANE was through cesarean operation. It’s a pithy poem that reeled my irises to crimson fluids. Unlike the multitude of poems I’ve been able to write, it parted the nub of hellhole and wedged me in sharp-tipped prickles. Its formation would have been smooth and unrelieved but the fist of things were twisted to barbed wire on the ground that when I decided on writing the poem I’ve got a larger-than-life dream. The dream that had made me to nomenclate my own self a crass, inconsequential and unbelievable hog. When I picked my pen for this elfin but longwinded poem, the aspiration I carried in the lid of my heart was to dump a poetic oeuvre overtly cranky, unusual, lyrical and phenomenal. I was up for a poem that would prevaricate existing cultures and designs. I mean the poetic wisp that’s gonna be a cupid in the valley of egrets.    I needed a poetic arrangement sharp enough to carve for itself a singular niche that’s gonna be mimicked and scuttled after all over Africa (lol!). Drafting it was a burden because all I would be unraveling in the verses was oozing from a real-life experience happening under my very nose. The process was soul-slurping because I was getting inspired by the emaciated body of an octogenarian who abruptly lost his wife in a ghastly car accident at the half of his age and continued to mourn, to count backwards, inwards and upwards repudiating fresh affection and novel camaraderie. For the first time I wasn’t going to write a poem because in my rucksack of words nestled a glut of highfalutin and excessively aesthetic vocabularies. I would be writing because my eyes were cherry rivulets, my heart a bustling grenade.  

LIKE TORN KITES IN A HURRICANE failed to fall merely; on the reason that at the time of its composition I was a poet torn between two pyramidal dreams: molding a masterpiece with an approach so novel and all alone, then capturing the life-situation of love, romance, death and grave in the way that kept me singing, crying, grunting, raising and falling. In the way my reader would be panting and juddering like the blubber of a running pregnant pooch. I needed a poem that would vibrate the mind as it winds on. I needed  a poem that would feed my readers thunders and earthquakes. I needed a poem that would broach boundaries and part the eyes to medetarean sea.

The dream of etching lines that broke out of traditions didn’t just  hop in and latch unto the wall of my spirit. I was only tired of following suite. I was loathing gravely that a large number of African poets are wannabes, suddenly switching into and writing  in the manner of the poets winning awards in the continent. The thick kaleidoscopicsm  was for me, irking and disgusting. I was tired of dumping my voice because a particular  poetic voice is trending and it’s a universal vogue. And I was tired  of writing poems that ended up sounding  flat and passionless_

Sorry for my twirling, your question put hoe in an inflated balloon.

For instance, when Romeo Oriogun appeared in Praxis Magazine with Burnt men, showed in Brittle paper and won the Brunel Prize I fancied the craft of the LGBTQ advocant. I really fell in love with his fiddly and tricky metaphors. The metaphors cracking laws and orders. The metaphor sharper than the teeth of the leviathan. These metaphors that barely cared if the reader grunts or frowns. The metaphor that lingers after it was gone through. I fancied him. But his writing  was magnifying queer bodies, bodies lost in labyrinth of paths. Then check it out, I, who wasn’t  queer  began to glorify queer bodies. Something I wasn’t. I hadn’t tasted. Something I barely fancied all because I thought coupled  with  his singular  style he’s trending  because  he’s writing on queer  subject. What was the corollary of my arts? standing on the cranky plinth that wasn’t mine ,what  form of poems was I busy spilling? I was only penning down lies, lopsided and boring poems. Because I wasn’t sincere. Because I was rallying after someone’s voice and never bothered to cogitate over the expediency of detecting my own voice in the spectrum of poetry. Standing on someone else voice got me writing  a short story on lesbianism which made, but got withdrawn from the mega Nigerian 2017 Quramo Writer’s Prize shortlist because……sorry, your time……I won’t be talking about this now.               

I got out of everyone, the trill of awards and wrote LIKE TORN KITES IN A HURRICANE and many other poems in the way I can relate to and defend if eventually I was called upon, in the way that unraveled my innermost feelings.

So, summarily, the process of writing LIKE TORN KITES IN A HURRICANE was compartmentalizing, onerous and different because quoting Gbenga Adesina there is a need for a flux in African Poetry and its literature.

Q: What does poetry mean to you?

A: For me, poetry is a longwinded voyage of sugary vistas. I fancy that it unfurls me and fills me to the brim with infinite exhilarations. For the fact it clefts for me a space in the spectrum where am always able to round too many things in a jiffy, emotionally, kaleidoscopically and constructively poetry for me, is a feathery paradise. A  bulldozing arsenal of war. Poetry is a treasured island I wind into when I get hunted by the vicissitudes and abnormalities of life. It’s my cross and my crown. It puts tears in my eyes and it feed me with laughter. It annoys me and consoles me. It is the assizes with which  I dissect  the world roaming like a tramp and spread my inward thoughts of corrections, reformations, enlightenment and reconciliation. Lastly, poetry for me, is a war zone attended only by mean made men.

           

Q: What are your five year goals with your poetry?

A: Although, I’ve been repeatedly published in online magazines as Tuck and Kalahari Review but appearing in the long and short list of this esteemed contest revered all over Africa stuck me in succulent cantata, milky sonata and boasted my peripatetic ego (lol!) and now am feeling its possible I’d have become a renowned writer of expository and soporific poetry chapbooks and collections in the next five years. I hoped strongly that in the next five years I’d would have pleated a pattern of poetry particular to Rex Omonla. Am a strong mind and a very difficult tongue so I believe. Lastly, in the next five years I would have been lost in the wind, touring the whole of Africa like Gbenga Adesina, Safia Elhilo, Kwesi Brew and others lecturing the growing Africa poets the way to  read and appreciate Africa poetry and the expediency of experimentation in  the continent’s poetry. Sorry, this final lastly, in the next five years I would have caligraphed in the Orions poems that are feudal, boundary-broaching and tradition-defiling.       

Q: Which African Poets are you keen on reading?

A: I fancy poets who write because they’ve got things  to say and when  they write  they spill fire and  break codes and tenets; poets  who devour landmarks and milestones and slur the rule of grammar because they know we’ve got poetic license and still deserve in the range of trophies golden alchemy. They poets am referring and which I’ve always be caught reading are in no particular order: Gbenga Adesina, Romeo Oriogun, Warsan Shire, Nayyirah Waheed, Safia Elhilo, Kwesi Brew, Ben Okiri, Syl Cheney-Coker, Wole Soyinka and any poem published by Brittle Paper (lol!)   

Q: What some of the challenges you face with poetry?

A: The route into its body is jagged and always bedazzling. A lively poem must be simple yet carry in its foyer labyrinth of paths. But things  started getting smooth when I started taking stock of things  and realized I’d only  have to read as many first-rate poems as possible  and dump the I idea of trying to write and sound like a particular poet.        

Q: Words for literature teachers

A: Poetry teachers must understand that indisputably poetry is a bar of prickles but despite its unsettling jaggedness it’s like any other vocation that  could be  learnt  and mastered. I expect them to whisper this into the head of their students. They should feed their audience with the  fact that there isn’t any magical way one can be a poet writing great poems if not by reading and just reading poems by poets who sucked their mothers breasts well. They should  teach  the students never  to hop across a poem because of its boringness and rigidity, the more they read it the fog will part for the king. Lastly, poetry teachers should curtail the rate at which we feed our young folks poetry that ended with a particular era. It’s not as if it shouldn’t be taught at all. I once became angry that all the time my mentor would be talking about poems glorifying colonialism and long-fought wars again and again as if the world is moving backward. One day I told him teach me poems that talk about the problems of today, the feeling of the moment, the trending things. I know the white men  came and exploit and push us into slavery, am tired of the old sagas. Teach them how poetry can change their lives, how it can put meal on their tables and how it can nurture them into positive monsters. When you teach them, let your eyes be particles of passion.

Q: Parting remark?

A:  I’m m happy the Babishainiwe Poetry Foundation had broken the hedge and created a wide window into my multihued world. To the judges I say large kudos for having more than two eyes. To the poets who submitted  and didn’t make the longlist, to the poets dropped to make things smaller hear this; from the inception  of Babishainiwe Poetry contest, except when it was meant for Ugandan Women alone, I’ve been submitting poems for the prize but I’ve never smelled the longlist. But I never gave up…..guys I say to you guys don’t give up. Am talking to you, you will get there. Just read more and write more. 

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The shortlisted poems may be read here:

#BABISHAI2018 SHORTLIST

ADEDAYO AGARAU: #BABISHAI2018 SHORTLIST

 “When he was 4, a lady kissed him & that was the very beginning.”

Adedayo Agarau is a Nigerian documentary photographer and poet. He explores the concept of godhood, boyhood, distance, and absence. His poems have been featured or forthcoming on Kalahari, Brittle Paper, Gaze Mag, Allegro, Obra Artifact, Praxis Magazine, African Writer, Click 042, One Jarcar Press, Expound Magazine, Geometry, 8poems and elsewhere.


Q:    What was the process of writing your particular poem, Stones?


A:  I have always cherished memories because they have directed my course through the years. Isn’t it beautiful that our body records events, even in our unconsciousness? Memory is like yellow tulips growing everywhere. No! not weeds, yellow tulips. Memories may come raging and turbulent, but when properly cared for, they are bliss. I was 9 when the Ikeja Cantonment bomb blast happened in 2002, with no hope of writing about it years to come. I wouldn’t even believe I would be a poet. I remember watching NTA NewsLine with my family, and there were pictures of a city full of dead people, covered with the white cloths, and some with the colours of the Nigerian flag, being mass buried.

Writing “Stones” was as heavy as the title. It just won’t let go. The poem was an old rag that needed to be rewashed. When the event happened in 2002, I was only 9 and clueless, never been anywhere near a fire. I am however glad I was able to revisit old memory and tuck it away.

Q:  What does poetry mean to you?

A: Poetry. WOW. Sincerely, some questions will never entirely get the answers they deserve. I started writing in 2013 because I had developed an interest in the beauty of rhymes. At that time, there
were revolutionary Facebook rap battles, and I wanted to take the shine on one of those days. But I found something higher than the vain brawl of words, which was being a commuter of memory. Gbenga Adesina, also a shortlisted poet of Babishai, in 2015, told me that this is the generation of writers that turns inward. Always trapped in memory, body, dream, self. I am trapped somewhere,
still. And each time I emerge, I come with testimonies of that victory or ruin. And these testimonies carefully display how dear and personal poetry is to me; the goings and comings, the asylum chapel, thoroughly documented by poetry.

Q:    What are your five year goals with your poetry?

A:   A lot would have gone under the shades by then, and at the same time, a lot would have emerged. By then, I believe I would be done with my first full-length collection of poems. While that is still in the works, I have it tucked in my breast pocket to study poetry. Most importantly, the urge to get better would carry me through these 5 years and beyond. So yes! In 5 years, I want to be strong, formidable and remain relentless.

Q: Which African poets are you keen on reading?

A: I was particularly waiting for this question. Yay! Hi Gbenga Adesina & DM Aderibigbe! Hello Safia Elhillo! I saturate my self with these people. Their writing has dramatically influenced my works. The glorious works of Romeo Oriogun, Rasaq Malik Gbolahan and Gbenga
Adeoba remain colourful in mind. Logan February's deep in line narratives keep me sleepless. I am very grateful for the gift of writing and the ability to read. Well, I have a blockchain of poets  that check and balance me in return, Mesioye John, Hauwa Nuhu, Nome Patrick, Wale Ayinla, Jide Badmus and Salawu Olajide (who is also on the shortlist), whose works have been my light for a long time now. I think reading poetry from other people helps us to understand their
core, and in return helps us to further understand our own cores too.

Q:  What are some of the challenges you face with poetry?

A: As much as I like to say that poetry is a profoundly personal engagement for me, I love to see how it influences my public space. I have experimented with my facebook page, and I realized that it seems we are living our readers behind as regards the revolution of African
Poetry. But I am grateful to the beautiful works paddling itself out throughout the continent. Soon! Soon! The light will find us all.

Q:  Is there anything of importance you would like to share with literature teachers, who are reading this?


A: Ah! Yes! Going by what Gbenga told me –“this is the generation
that turns inward.”

I think the body / self / the soul/ is a beautiful place. Full of chaos, fireflies crackling in fire; the body is a field with blessed of butterflies too. Writing curriculums should be drawn to address or
affect immediate environments. We, students, want to talk about our father, about our home, about how grandpa’s love has reshaped the family and a lot more. And we deserve to start writing about these things from now. In addition, the earth wants to hear our respective distinctive stories, and our skills should be crafted in that regard.

Q:    Any parting remark?

A: Poetry will someday rule the world, Babishai. We are the process.
Thank you Babishai!

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Read the other shortlisted poets here:
BABISHAI 2018 SHORTLIST

Our poetry festival is scheduled for 3-6 August at Sipi Falls in Kapchorwa, followed by Mbale. Join us, won't you? Call +256 751 703226

#BABISHAI2018 SHORTLIST: BOLUWATIFE AFOLABI

As we draw closer to the #Babishai2018 poetry festival, we will feature our #Babishai2018 shortlisted poets. Here below is Nigerian poet, Boluwatife Afolabi.

Courtesy photo

Boluwatife Afolabi is the author of 'The Cartographer of Memory' an electronic poetry chapbook published by the Sankofa Initiative in September2017.

His works have appeared on Adda, Saraba Magazine, Arts and Africa, Expound Magazine, African Writers etc.

In June 2017, he was listed on nantygreens.com as one of the top 10 emerging Nigerian poets to be read.

He is also the poetry editor at agbowo.org. He lives and writes from Ibadan, Nigeria.

Twitter: @oluafolabi

Q:      What was the process of writing 'Because Everything Was Being Swallowed By Memory'

A: I have not been an alien to grief, neither have I been a kin to it but in 2017, I came close to understanding the true nature of loss and grief. My uncle's wife died. I called her Aunty Ebun. I thought I already knew what kindness was but she made kindness into something that could be seen and touched and felt. And it stayed with me.

When I heard that she died, my mind went white and my throat became dry. I wanted to cry but the tears didn't come running either. I did not know how to perform grief that was heavy inside my heart.

So, I mourned and attempted to remember her, the only way I have learned to remember things, by writing them down.

I waited for the poem. It was one of those poems that come in trickles but I was patient and the poem came.

It was my way of immortalizing her because I was afraid that time in its ruthlessness will soon turn my memory of her into a blur and I didn't want time and forgetfulness to take that memory away from me.

Q:     What does poetry mean to you?

A: While writing the introduction to my electronic chapbook, I spent days pondering on the true nature of my poetry, 'Why do I write?' and I came up with this-

'My poetry bears witness to the evolution of the human consciousness. To record, to heal, to serve as triggers of memory. Sometimes, it doesn't heal, and rereading words break me. But I'd rather become a sea of memory than to have existed without having written. The delight in the recognition of our shared humanity (in loss, in suffering, in love) is what spurs me. The desire to become a lens through which a shred of emotion can be viewed in full detail, absorbed, felt. There is nothing more glorious.'

Q: What are your five-year goals with poetry?

A: In the next five years, I hope to publish a full-length collection of poems. I want to explore the world more, have more soul-baring conversations with people from various cultures, write about them and treasure them in my poems.

Q: Which African poets are you keen on reading?

A: I started writing poetry in senior secondary school and my early influences were the great poets from the old generation like- Dennis Brutus, JP Clark, Niyi Osundare, Kofi Awoonor, and LS Senghor.

In recent years, I now favour contemporary African poets such as- Orimoloye Moyosore, Romeo Oriogun, Gbenga Adesina, Warsan Shire, Dami Ajayi, Logan February and Safia Elhillo.

Q: What are some of the challenges you face with poetry?

A: Writing in every form is very tasking and demands discipline and time. Sometimes I get carried away with my other reality and I am not able to write as much as I will like to.

Also, there are times when I am unable to connect with the image of the poem I want to write inside my head. At times like that, I like to think that the poem is not ready for me so I wait and let the poem come instead.

The most important lesson my poetry has been teaching me is patience. That I must not rush the process.

Q:  Is there anything of importance you would like to share with Literature teachers, who are reading this?

A: I will like to tell Literature teachers to approach teaching Literature from a more soulful perspective. What I mean is that the students of Literature should be made to understand all the various emotions that a poet has put into the poem.

They should ensure that they are not mechanical with the teaching of the subject. When students cannot connect with the soul of the poem they are reading, it makes learning Literature more cumbersome for them.

  Parting remarks.

I am very grateful to the Babishai Poetry Foundation for the opportunity they are giving emerging African poets to showcase their poems.

I will also like to say congratulations to all the other shortlisted poets and wish them good luck.

Thank you very much.

Read the rest of the #Babishai2018 shortlist here:
file:///C:/Users/user/Downloads/BABISHAI2018-SHORTLIST%20(1).pdf

CONGRATULATIONS TO KARIUKI WA NYAMU ON WINNING THE BABISHAI 2017 HAIKU PRIZE

On the night of Sunday 6 August, we held our award-giving ceremony of the 2017 Babishai haiku prize. The judges, after intense deliberation, came up with their final list, and in order, we congratulate Kariuki wa Nyamu from Kenya, on emerging first, Anthony Itopa Obaro rm Nigeria, on emerging second and Kuadegbeku Pamela from Ghana, on emerging third. Congratulations to all that made it to the shortlist.




Below are the judges' comments.

JUDGES COMMENTARY ON THREE TOP POEMS

COMMENTARY BY ADJEI AGYEI-BAAH/GHANA

FIRST PRIZE
last night’s rain
in the morning mud
fresh toad prints

Kariuki wa Nyamu/Kenya

The general acceptance that a ‘good’ haiku is born out of a close observation is clearly demonstrated in this haiku. As a persnickety fellow concerned with “little things” and its role in nature was drawn to this haiku by its mere fact of familiarity and yet revealing something unfamiliar. This ku actually connects so well with me as a village boy who used to play with other kids in the mud after rainfall, and had always been fascinated by the footprints we left in the mud, or the ones left by others, and even that of little animals, especially on our way to the farm. But the simple question that unmindful person may ask is, “what after all is remarkable about these footprints, when they are not even of humans but of little animals? And the haikuist will answer: “It’s the little details that are vital. Little things make a big revelation.” Hence the mud prints we leave today become the harden spots for others to travel by tomorrow! Or simply as a way to telling others that we were once HERE! In fact, these are the footprint of wisdom, aside its structural details, that the haikuist left on my mind and hence commends it for the top spot position.
--Adjei Agyei-Baah/ Ghana


SECOND PRIZE
downpour
waterfalls from rooftops
pouring into buckets

Anthony Itopa Obaro/Nigeria

The beauty of this haiku lies in its structure, and diction carefully selected by the poet that culminate into one beautiful poetic puzzle. Firstly, the imposing one-word opener: “downpour” which find its way onto “rooftops” and cascade down as “waterfall” at the turn point of eaves or joints and filling “buckets” down below, is anyway a common scene but still brings to forth the poet’s brilliance and mastery in the chaining of words to birth this beautiful composition. The poet though creates a seemingly setting of delightful season—rain arrival, but yet with its subtle worry of water scarcity. One can envisage a village drown in a prolong dryness or drought compelling people to put buckets and sometimes barrels (at roof joints) to collect rain as substitute for clean water. Indeed, this is a scene very common in Africa and other places in the world, and hence gets my yes as a beautiful piece that succinctly tells an African story.
--Adjei Agyei-Baah/ Ghana


THIRD PRIZE
moon circle
palms into palms
an armless child breaks the ring

Kuadegbeku Pamela/Ghana

The poem has a sterling opener with two circle words, a” moon” and “circle” itself, beautifully stitched to create an outdoor setting of children under moonlight. A noticeable village or city scene which recalls a fond memory and transport the reader down the memory lane, where there are no light and kids and lovers take advantage of the situation to prolong their stay into the night by playing or chatting. But like a good haiku, often imbued with its twist and turns, the joy of the persona is shortly lived, as a gap in the “circle” is revealed─ the missing arms of a child. Though the source be it an accident or a natural occurrence is not clearly stated; the sorry sight of war in Africa (and other places) is quickly brought into mind. Perhaps the real image the poet calls to our attention here. The horrible images of “short sleeve” or “long sleeves” once perpetuated by fiends like Fodah Sankoh (of Sierra Leone) and his kind on our beloved continent Africa rear its ugly head here and surely come as an awakening confirmation to the fact “all the arms we need are for hugging” and not simply for tugging!
--Adjei Agyei-Baah/ Ghana



COMMENTARY BY MERCY IKURI/ KENYA


FIRST PRIZE
last night’s rain
in the morning mud
fresh toad prints

Kariuki wa Nyamu/Kenya

As a pluviophile, this haiku won me over and I welcome it wholeheartedly to the Afriku hall of fame. Most haiku depict what is there; they paint a picture of a striking image as witnessed by the writer.  But here we see a writer who, like a detective, is looking at “a clue” left behind in nature and makes a delightful deduction. For me, the alliterating and refreshing “morning mud” kigo added to the memorability of this haiku.
Speaking of kigo, having both “ last night’s rain” and “morning mud” made this haiku feel a little too kigo- heavy but the decision was pardoned as further paring down of this version would perhaps take away from its “oomph” and the African setting it draws inspiration from.
Great poems, books, songs…any truly great thing, really, is that which makes you wish you had written, sang or created it. This haiku did that for me. Congratulations to the writer…Encore!
---Mercy Ikuri/ Kenya

SECOND PRIZE
downpour
waterfalls from rooftops
pouring into buckets

Yet another rainy-season-inspired haiku. This time, depicting a scene those who have ever dealt with leaking roofs know only too well.

While repetition of an idea can re-inforce a message, it is more often than not more effective in the longer forms of poetry. In shorter verses like haiku, it tends to water down the general impact, turning the “aha” moment into a “duh” moment. In this case, the words “downpour”, “waterfalls” and “pouring” had that effect on me.

The saving grace was the imagery of “waterfalls” thundering down into buckets; upgrading streams of rain pouring into a house to “waterfalls” relayed the annoyance of a leaking roof very well. The African setting is clearly captured and relatable to many.
I see a keen eye and a way with words here and I wish the writer many more moments in the haiku limelight.
---Mercy Ikuri/ Kenya

THIRD PRIZE
moon circle
palms into palms
an armless child breaks the ring

Kuadegbeku Pamela/Ghana

In the same way the armless child breaks the playful circle, this haiku breaks one’s line of thinking, forcing you to dwell on it a little while longer. And that is something I appreciate about creatively crafted haiku; the ability to make the reader “stop and see” in the same way the writer did when inspiration struck.

Without the line “moon circle”, I feel that this would be such a poignant senryu.  Considering this, the first line feels a little “patched into place” in order to avoid standing out as a senryu in a sea of haiku. To the writer’s credit, however, the images of the moon’s circle and a ring of children complemented each other well enough.

The contrast brought in by the last line’s revelation evokes an emotional response, making it a most memorable piece. To the writer I say “Bravo!”, you have earned your place in my personal “haiku hall of faves” and “Encore!”
---Mercy Ikuri/ Kenya


COMMENTARY BY EMMANUEL JESSIE KALUSIAN/ NIGERIA


FIRST PRIZE
last night's rain
in the morning mud
fresh toad prints

Kariuki wa Nyamu/Kenya

The haiku begins by telling us of the past night's experience-- a merciless downpour i guess. Interestingly, at first light the personae of the poem is not only met with wetness in the mud, but something revelatory: the incessant prints of toads, who have toiled the night and soiled the mud. Three things strike me in this haiku. One: the gentle way it peels back layers of understanding. Every line of the 'ku is doubtless a revelation that invites the reader further into the poem. Two: is the aha-line 'fresh toad prints'. It is so vivid and punchy that i can even see and tread in the toad prints myself! This is one thing well-written haikus do. The last and the most obvious is its Africanness. The scenario painted is one the average African can easily relate to. Finally, for lack of a better word, let me tell this great haijin bravo for composing such a gem.
---Emmanuel Jessie Kalusian/ Nigeria

SECOND PRIZE

downpour
waterfalls from rooftops
pouring into buckets

Anthony Itopa Obaro/Nigeria

The haiku begins with noise, gusts of rain pouring hard on a roof. In the second line of the poem, the haijin is tempted to state a thing twice. Instead of saying 'water from rooftops' (which would have been so obvious). He euphemistically and quite satirically (in view of the state of the personae's roof) refers to it, interestingly not as leaky
roof but as 'waterfalls'. This changes the entire view of the poem and makes the reader see mere raindrops from a whole new light! In truth, the use of Euphemism in the poem brings me to the question of whether figure of speech, even the slightest form of it is allowed in haiku composition. Well since Matsuo Basho, the great Japanese haiku writer used metaphor in one of his verses. Haijins from all over the world have been taking a cue from him. But let me quickly point out here that those who use figure of speech and are lauded have been using it skillfully and technically, in such a way that the reader hardly notices. Not verbatim and pointedly as it is used in other forms of poetry. And yes, Anthony gave a skillful rendition of it in this poem. In the pivot line of the 'ku 'waterfalls' from 'rooftops' flows into buckets, which i love to think, the personae intentionally positioned. Altogether makes this haiku continue in my head long after it is read. Something well-written haikus with beautiful moments are wont to doing. Conclusively, the third line of this haiku, especially the verb 'pouring' puts the poem in an ever present state, which is also the hallmark of a well-written in view of the form's basic aesthetics.

---Emmanuel Jessie Kalusian/ Nigeria

THIRD PRIZE

moon circle
palms into palms
an armless child breaks the ring

Kuadegbeku Pamela/Ghana

This haiku has a touch of poignancy and childhood. In the first line, we see a circle is formed around the moon by children at play. The poem progresses to the second, where we see palms linked. But the aha-line is really where the 'magic' lives. An armless child brings 'his' oddness to the ring, and the ring as if knowing cuts abruptly, and all the children notice the one who isn't like them. And i guess the child is sent away or the play loses its savour. The bone of contention here, is that the way we are, whether deformed by an accident or born deformed pointedly determines how we are accepted or how we enter certain places and forums. Have you ever seen a cripple enter a bank? Does he enter the same way as a whole man? Do people look at him pitiably the same way as the whole man? Does his mere presence contour the expression on the faces of people? The answers are not far-fetched, and this haiku poet gives the subject matter a better case and a fine rendering.
---Emmanuel Jessie Kalusian/ Nigeria