Poem: It's you once more

Most times I wonder how it happens, could it be 'A dark sullen being with eyes as sharp as night and voice as cold as droplets of water from a fragmented sky. Its claws going deep like the seas and loose breath presently present. Heavy steps pressing through humanity  searching for fragile customers. Noone  desires such visits but it strapped young  Lucy of her hands and tattooed stamps  over the tenderness of her youth. Aunty  was taken. she left totally In love with my fresh stew, always wanting just more. While in love with the freshness of greenness, she left. I never stopped imagining her withering hands holding his caped dark wear beckoning on hope. It was death standing in the depth of growth. It's you once more.
Minka okim

In Nigeria...

In Nigeria, everyone is happy. Totally happy. Extraordinarily satisfied and eyes fixed up for a brighter tomorrow. Imagine, "we laugh at death". We laugh at the ideology and reality of passing on. Deep!! Few weeks ago, I was in a class were someone made an obscene caricature about death...it got to us but I found myself really laughing. What about the increment in the price of rice? I mean people still buy 5-6 bags with the normalcy in their salaries. Even in the midst of war:we dance, we drink, we poke hands at the government for our situation, that's the least we can do. We are happy people. HAPPY INDEPENDENCE WEEK.

Feminism

I have become a wife, I have become a  bore, I have asked to forfeit my  independent young feminist card, I balance his check book, I trim his hair, nothing bothers me; I have found my match nick. These are the words of Gillian Flynn...My question then is, Does marriage damage a feminist opinion of what "feminism should be"...what does real feminism entail. Is it centered on protesting on same wear for the both sexes, sexual freedom....Does one journey towards feminism end. Does it have to do with walking away from several marriages because it ain't working. 
Minka Okim.