SDC LETTER: The confession of a uite

They tried to silence me by feeding me with shafts from decayed bags of corn

I have been washed in dirty soapy water

I have been made to sleep in the hostels of open skies

Leaving my life at the mercy of whatever disease or animal that got me first

I have been reduced to mere matter that has weight and occupies space

Reduced to mere savage creature, hoisting the leash to the poles of bestiality

I have been made to live in prisons barred by cosmetic roofs and slaughter houses of traumatic toilets.

I have been treated worse than the inmates in the Agodi and Kirikiri

Continually feeding me with crumbs of half-baked bread and paraffin tasting ‘unpure’ water

Not for free, but through my nose, I am made to pay

What more can they do before my voice is finally silenced?


Photo Credit:

Photo Credit:

I saw them in the dead of the night, dressed in white, red and black

Like men going for witch-hunt during a ritual sacrifice

They trapped all the birds in our community, gagged and put them in a cage

After which they released into the air a whole new species of wingless birds called the SDC letters

These new birds are their new goons of intimidation

The birds were white with extremely long beaks shaped like S

Scanty withered feathers arranged like the letter D

And long sharp ugly brown claws carved like C

Every day, these birds are made to hunt me down, scare me and send me packing

Just like the khaki boys scared our fathers with their guns

These civilian tyrants scare me with the birds called the SDC letters


But can they really silence me?

With the birds called the SDC letters,

The Aluta spirit is slowly ebbing, crying for it to be saved from dying

They want to finally silence or send me packing

But what is an authority without subjects?

Such authority would be an action less word- a noun

What is a vice-chancellor without a university?

Such a vice-chancellor would be a headless crown- a mere title

What is a school without students?

Such school building would be a museum of disgraceful artifacts

What is a lecturer without students to lecture?

Such lecturer would be a mad man displaying momentum insanity


If their aim for releasing the birds called the SDC letters

Is to make me an Europeanized African dummy

Who is told what and what not to do

Then, that is big smelly ooze from their end

If they can silence

Then, they can make Face book a faceless book

But what is a “face book” without the face?

Then, it would be just a mere book

And if it is the face without the book,

Then, it would just be a bunch of faces

A twitter without tweet is a mere robotic bird

An istagram without the gram is just a group of persons called

International Safe Transit Association

While the gram without the “Ista”

Would be a stupid machine for measuring fishes

What are messengers or xenders without anyone to send them on errands?

A Bluetooth without the tooth is a mere colour

While the Bluetooth without the blue is

A dark brown tooth, discoloured from the constant chewing of kolanuts

Picture a playstore without the play or the store

Without the store, it would be a frolic

Without the play, it would be either a shop or a storehouse

A youtube without the you would be a transparent tube

But without tube, it would be university acronym that has no location: U…

If the picture is still not clear

Then take whatsapp without the what,s, or app

Without the s and app

It would be what? A mere question

Without the what and s

It would be a worthless app

And without the what and app

It would be a mere sound s, a stupid hiss…


Although the revolution agenda died

The revolution spirit still lives on

Even if they succeed in silencing me

By stealing the Aluta spirit from me

I will consult the gods of the Aluta using the cowries

Gone are the days when the birds called the SDC letters

Were seen only on ominously ceremonial occasions

It is everywhere now and they are beginning to look pretty tasty to me

Now that I am starving and impoverished

I will start hunting and eating them by their numbers!


NB: if you think this is not a mere poem, then, you are on your own!


 N.B. This is not a fictional poetry, it is written out of true experience but because of the University of Ibadan management’s zero tolerance policy for criticism, we have decided to protect the writer.


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *