The Second Edition of the Pen Users Weekly Challenge: This is a collection of works of beautiful writers. We trust you will enjoy how the writers uniquely describe drug abuse and its implications. Enjoy our delicious meal of creativity.
The project art is by Oomart
WEEP NOT CHILD by
Opeyemi Adesina #Yungprof P
Streams of anguish
Piercing through natural cosmetics
Lips of dejected kisses
In chains, stacked
Sold by some Judas, with sweet kisses
Behind trucks, before men in blacks
Freedom sold with tucked notes
Blinded with tissue and tears
Queuing for judgment
Into years of prostitution, alms begging or better choices
No, such is not written.
PAINS IN SILENCE by Babatunde Sodiq Olalekan #Nebu
I have suffered in pain and silence
My heart so full of bitterness
I have weeped tears of blood than water
My spirits broken,
My future getting crushed,
All my life being snatched away before my very eyes
At a very tender age of my life,
I already know all the streets of Lagos
While the other children are in their school of learning
I am in my school of hawking
Selling sachets of pure water on the busy roads
Sweat cascading on my body under the scorching sun
Always drenched to the bones when it rains
I move, I walk, I run, I shout, I cry and beg people to buy
All day long until nightfall creeps in
Nightfall is my worst enemy ever
I go home every night with my heart bursting with fear,
Afraid of going to the two beastly creatures waiting at home
As soon as I get into the house that is nothing but hell,
My Uncle’s devilish wife snatches the day’s money from me
And gives me severe beatings
If I take home, a single sachet of water
Then she tells me to go sleep on my miserable mat
And on an empty stomach
Tired, Terrified, Tears drizzling down my face
I stay awake counting the ceilings
Knowing my tribulations for the day are not over
Expecting the rapist who calls himself my uncle,
Who comes to me in the middle of the night
Yanks my wrapper away from my body
Holds my mouth from screaming
And forces himself in between my legs
Then he shudders, grunts, stands and leaves quietly
Leaving me with a feeling of wretchedness and unending miseries
Pains upon pains, Sufferings after sufferings
I blame myself for every pain I suffered in silence
I blame my poverty stricken parents
Who sold me to that brute of an uncle
To relieve themselves of one mouth to feed
I blame the government for not noticing us,
Children like me hawking, jumping around the roads
Many knocked down by vehicles every blessed day
I am shouting to the world
To let them know we exist
To put a stop to the abusing of children
And an abrupt end to the abusers of children.
AGONY OF THE LITTLE ONES by Tanimola Femi Emmanuel #Femkeyz
What is their crime?
Is it coming to this world?
Is it coming to your home?
Is it because of their genders?
What would make men treat them this wickedly?
These little lads are still supposed to be in their mothers’ arms
But because of your wickedness
You push them to the roads to hawk,you expose them to harms
You sun-dry them and expose them to Sickness
Their little lives become Crooked from the start
What about those little girls?
They become sex toys in the hands of Pedophiles
Those shameless Old fools turn them to Sex slaves
They forcefully Sex them, all because of the small penny they asked for
All they needed was Survival, since Parental Care is dead!
To the parents, why bring them to this wicked world
When you can’t cater for them?
You shall surely account for these evils you brought on them!
God is patiently waiting for you to tell him how you’ve handled the properties He gave you!
You will surely not escape His wrath!
To the Satanic Society
Life can’t continue to be unbearable for these kids
Think about the Stigma, think about the Sorrow!
Think about the future,what will become of them?
Stop these brutalities!,Stop these abuses!,Stop being Wicked!!!..
WHEN YOU CAME… by Elijah Alade #Germane
I used to think that I was their first child, I used to think that doing these works was because their children(whom I took as my siblings)were way younger than I was. I realised I was wrong when their genuine first child grew to the age of consciousness and my stress still continued. I wash all washables, clean all cleanables, infact I do all doables amidst insults and tortures from my “mother”.
I am Promise, Mr and Mrs Smart came to my mother after my father’s death, telling her that they had decided to take me with them so I could go to a good school, and I would have a good life. That was three years ago when I was nine.
I am a girl doing a man’s works. I’m now muscular due to heavy things I lift, I take two 25litre Jerry cans filled with water over a long distance several times, every day as there is no well around us. I go to bushes in search of firewood, even though there is a filled gas cylinder. The only reason I’m allowed to follow them to beautiful places is to help carry her last born while she move about comfortably. I go about with worn and torn clothes. School is a thing of the past, I cook thrice a day but eat once. I mustn’t eat in the sitting room, I mustn’t sit on the cushions. Oh God! This vileness is getting too much.
I thought all of this is the worst until something serious began to happen two years ago: Mrs Smart was on one of her regular trade trips, “Daddy” Mr.Smart came to my room at around 8pm, forcing himself on me. There was blood, I felt pains, he threatened to kill me if I tell anyone about it. After then, he has been coming like a lion to devour me. I tried running away, but where will I run to? I don’t know the way to our home and my mother’s has not been coming. I’m helpless.
There is a knock at the door: here comes the monster!
THE CHILD OF CIRCUMSTANCES by Adeyeri Waliu Olalekan #Lhexxzydbard
‘Join me as I welcome to the podium
Our great Philanthropist…’
Unto you all, myself I shall present.
In weariness left his mother
To the great beyond,
There sleeps she soundly,
While her ward in wretchedness wallowed …
Hmmm… “Oku olomo kii sun…”
In this cruel world alone he has tripped,
Amidst tides and tempest
Cum trauma, he trained his heart.
Amidst gangs says he:
“I am stronger than you are,
At nine, I know the walk-able route to the next city
Till I got a yam on my leg.
At nine, I fast “biri biri”
Till I can hold stomach rumbling.
At nine, I know which beer suits
In all weather, that my tongue detest milk.
At nine, cozy the bridge have become
Since in my dad’s haven I was deprived.”
Have you seen the Child of Circumstance?
Whose brain dazzles than a diamond.
Alas, bald by the trays of assorted fruits.
Have you seen the Child of Circumstance?
Whose back mould of strokes,
Unveils an army of scars attacking the beauty.
I was the “Dejected Stone”
Now turned preciously indispensable.
I was the lost hope,
Now arose to arouse hopes.
I was the unknown child
Now awarded the second class citizen.
Touch me not, for my blood boils than the oven.
Scold me not, for the future in my hands lays.
Worry me not, lest the world you bury in weariness.
Kill me not, hence your future be lost forever.
“Oku olomo kii sun” – a Yoruba proverb meaning the dead mother never sleeps in heaven.
“Biri biri” – day and night fasting.
MY ONLY CHILD by Yusuf Sambo #Mahrez
His tattered blue shirt swaying north and south like a war flag,
His heart too pale to think
In the morning he staggered round the town with trouble on his head hawking
His sickness is maltreatment
He wants to be a wealthy man; but
He was denied education
Soon you would commit crimes
Where is your mother?
Her beautiful skimpy skirt forcefully adorn on her
Her brain too hot to love
In the night she crawls to a city party with rain on her eyes hawking
Her sickness is sexually transmitted
She wants to become a banker; but
She was denied education
Soon your sickness would be death
Will the son ever shine?
Who is really your father?
VICTIM by Adebayo Muheez Adekunke #Diamond
I’m a criminal, yet I’m a victim. I’m a carrier and keeper of metallic hell of destruction.I’m the snatcher and forceful taker of life,Many mouths have kissed the cold hands of death,Many have gone to their creator before their time because of me,Yet I’m a victim. Knife scars Serrating down my back Like beak of the sword-fish,As it shows the several torture of my initiation. Yet I’m a victim.
I’m a victim of neglect,Blessed with hardworking parents who don’t have my time.I tend to relate more with area brothers Which leads to my life of tragedy. I’ve been introduced into several evil things Right from a tender age, Which I don’t have available parent to share with. These area monsters used my loneliness to abuse me morally.I tried holding on to my morals But I broke down along the way I find myself doing the unusual Each time I decide to back out I’m being threatened.I’ve been dying in silence. Each night I shiver and cower Yet, no one to notice my fears.
I’d have loved to tell you more of my experience but I’m running out of time as I’m behind bars waiting for the men in green to take me to where I’d take my last breath.I see my parents in ocean of tears asking why I never confided in them. Were they ever available? I turned evil due to lack of guidance, I became malevolent since I had no one to turn to. I became abused due to lack of orientation but the deed has been done.As I’ve been destined for doom.This piece is my parting gift to the world for others to learn from my story.
We hope to see you all here again for the third edition.