Poet Feature - September 2021

John Chinaka Onyeche (Rememberajc) is a poet from Nigeria, writing from the metropolitan city of Port Harcourt Rivers State. 

He is an undergraduate student at Ignatius Ajuru University Of Education Port Harcourt Rivers State, Nigeria. 
He is Pursuing his first degree in History and Diplomatic Studies 

His writings are more on spoken word poetry and have appeared in many journals/magazines online within and outside Nigeria.

Places like  Spillwords, Melbourne culture corner, Nnoko, TunaFishjournal, Moreporkpress, Nymphspublications, Ethelzine, Youthmagazine, Acumen, Zindaily, pawnerspaper and conceitmagazine.

John Chinaka Onyeche (Rememberajc) loves to pen down every thought of his heart and he wishes to be found in the soil of literary world someday as he works on his first poetry collection titled: I AM FINDING MYSELF




In their anxiousness to win favours,

In the eyes of the navigators, men across the sea

They gave them our most valued possessions

Our young and vibrant men and women

The strength of our fatherland,

Even the gods were silent and blind

Remembering not our dances at the full moon

And we became like birds without nests

For the prince over the sea foresees

My ancestors and their anxiousness

He found nothing else to equal his favour

But the strength of his fatherland

The nourished bull milked to death at will

African young men and women

Shipped across the high Atlantic sea

Some against their own will cried

And many for the evil sown as conquest

Volunteered on board the ship of no return

In my ancestor's anxiousness to gain

From the men at the seashore as gods

He gave his land for exploitation and siege

Human and natural resources exploited

Our devotion to worship the gods

In turn, diverted to the men seen at the sea

In their anxiousness to gain, Africans sold their future


The indefinite that became definite,

You could have looked for a way out.

Bringing with you to my ancestors,

Good news instead of humiliations.

You are a curse to the events of time alas!

Antam, you who hunted to and fro,

The sea lions in the souls of kinsmen,

You hunted them like a good hunter,

Valuing their labour as the oil,

And their blood on the vessels cries,

Africa is hunted as sea lions ashore.

Rio de Oro the land where stood first,

Prester John the legendary priest of Africa,

At your name, men were captured alas!

Looked upon to see if they could find you,

Men presented to you oh! Prince Henry,

For we understand humanity at heart,

You rather have chosen to raid and enslave us,

Quest for the annihilation of people.

1434, the footsteps are seen at the shore,

They were not the lion skins you seek,

but of my kinsmen's backs, you torn,

1441 the blood of my ancestors’ dirge

Flowing in the Atlantic Ocean red

They were not the oil of the sea lions

Their gold, in your quest you made them cry


Friends of time

Years in number row

we count the stars

With our backs lay on

The ground we rolled out

Like rains in the skies

Falling to make mighty

Ocean on the earth surface

The paths we trod on

Friends of time

We stood hands round held

With fist pointing upwards

Gazing at the glittering moon

The wake of a new era echoes

We see the moon is older now

But our love withstood times

Friends of time

In the washing sand, we built

Our homes like memory lines

The abode we reside not in

Because it washed off on our wake

Trees we climbed together tells

Memories are to be a reminiscence

Friends of time

In time we wandered like

From whence the time goes

Like a push, it aimed at us

With just a push we launched in

Like strangers, we staggered

And time tells what becomes of us

Friends of time

In wars, we lay behind

Each other we fought with joy

Glancing at each other's face

The hope of victory in this battle assured

The realities of love surpassed wars

Lite the candle again tonight

Beam the rays of this light

Friends of time



There was a time your portrait

Is on this wall end hang as

The most prestigious award

That I won your heart at last

Each night before my sleep

I would gait tiptoeing there

Having a gaze at the image

The only imprint you left off

The echoes of the night birds

And fears of your preference

Of wealth over true love sting

As the walls rheum in dust

The cracks at the spot where

You left the only remembrance

The choice portrait of yourself

They speak of your dying love