Friday, July 18, 2025

Who Cursed The Gambia? An Essay by Modou Lamin Age-Almusaf Sowe

           Disclaimer: I don't own the picture above.




When I was growing up, I always felt uncomfortable whenever I saw highly talented Gambians leaving the country and not returning. However, as I experienced my own taste of Gambian adult life, I began to understand why our country's most intelligent people choose to live abroad and live very private lives. 

If you're looking for a country where people are divided economically, religiously, politically, academically, and professionally, look no further than The Gambia. The only time Gambians seem to unite is when they are destroying or lying against someone. Unfortunately, some Gambians are ungrateful, envious, and divisive. As a result, initiatives aimed at developing the country often remain unfinished. Despite all this—there are still very good and humble Gambians. What happened to the Biri Biri project of forming a team or building a stadium? Was this dream killed? 

What has happened to our talented footballers, filmmakers, young leaders, and skilled workers, as well as events like the Open Mic Music Festival? Dead, right? Ever asked what killed them? Could it just be a mere juju buried in someone's compound somewhere in Pipeline? Ever asked what happened to the young madman walking down the streets of Banjul? 

Our focus is only on what we see—but not what happened, how, and why!
After centuries of intellectual progress, Gambians must face a terrible question: who cursed The Gambia? The physicist Alan Lightman wrote: “Are we now descending from light into dark?” Could the death of the Community of Gambianist Scholars be a similitude? I don't think so; but Nigerian President Bola Tinubu added: "No matter how short you are, if you get out, you will see the sky." Whether we continue receiving analyses here or not—each one of us is already who you're from creation. The general goals of Gambians have frequently been obscured by a prevalent culture of superstition, jealousy, and envy. The belief in superstition that permeates Gambian society should be at the center of Gambian literature.  

Many citizens blame people for their tragedies, frequently ignoring the more concrete causes of their problems. This kind of thinking can create a vicious cycle of blame and hopelessness in which people believe they have no control over their situation. Superstition can cause distrust and division among the public rather than a spirit of cooperation and support. Many successful Gambians failed in many areas, projects, or things they started—which could benefit the country and humankind—simply because of curses or evil powers used against them. However, as Muslims, we should believe in Allah and endure misfortune—good or bad. But should we still blame God for every misfortune and continue with our 'yalla bahna' adage? One of our scholars once advised me: "Never let them know the cow that is giving you milk. If they know, they will poison the cow. Keep your success a secret."

To fry some eggs in this omelette without adding salt, our current officials of the Gambia Government have started silently relocating to new places to avoid waking up every day to people burying 'jujus' in their compounds/gates. Just last week, half a crate of raw eggs was broken at the gate of one government official living in my area. What more should we expect before the 2026 presidential election is over? “Creation is always more difficult than destruction; greed is easier than greatness.” But what do we know about the life of someone affected by the evil eye? Did it happen to you? 'Thiat', it is called in Wolof; despite being real—it is also doubted by scholars.

A time will come, if this is not addressed, every Gambian will sing this quote:
“I plan for betrayal, I plan for backstabbing, I also plan for reunion and forgiveness long before they happen. In life, I expect nothing, I expect anything, I expect everything.”

Sadly, even if Jesus was a Gambian, he would be provoked, called names, castigated, and ruined. Hyperbolically, can we say Gambians will be the last people to recognize Jesus? Like they have done to Achebe, to Cheikh Anta, to Bun Jeng, Moses, and all other prophets. Tinubu added: "Go and work till mentioning your name becomes a source of increased wealth for someone. Even my weakness creates wealth for vendors.”

Therefore, if the Barrow administration does good, commend them. If they do the opposite, show the human side of goodness by suggesting what's good rather than totally condemning them for political differences. If the opposition does good, commend them as well because even God has oppositions. Another teaching of Bola Tinubu is, while responding to critics: “I study them and strategically execute them. My detractors discuss my successes and failures because they have nothing to execute.”

Perhaps the most pernicious evils that afflict The Gambia are envy and jealousy. These feelings show up in a variety of spheres of life, including interpersonal relationships and career pursuits. In a society where success is often considered a zero-sum game, the achievements of one individual can be perceived as a threat to another. People may be reluctant to follow their passions out of fear of drawing unfavorable attention or animosity, which inhibits creativity and innovation. Particularly impacted are the arts, sports, and leadership fields, where gifted people may be marginalized or even shunned because of their peers' jealousy.

The accounts of numerous well-known Gambians who have experienced hardship make clear the effects of jealousy. While some have suffered from mental health problems or have drifted into obscurity, others have died young. These stories act as warnings, highlighting the damaging effects of envy. Many Gambians have given in to the idea that they must compete with one another rather than celebrate one another's accomplishments, which has resulted in a culture of isolation and quiet.

Gambians need to address the root causes of envy and superstition in order to end this cycle. In order to create a more encouraging and cooperative atmosphere, freeing ourselves from the bondage of evil is essential. People can learn to enjoy one another's accomplishments rather than see them as threats by fostering critical thinking and open communication.

Furthermore, community projects that prioritize harmony and group achievement might aid in tearing down the obstacles brought forth by jealousy.

Finally, the issue of who cursed The Gambia is a complicated and diverse topic to limit to this essay. Jealousy and superstition are important, but the mindset that fosters these feelings is the real problem. Gambians may start to remove the negative cloud that has long obscured their potential by cultivating a culture of cooperation, respect, and support. At that point, the country may genuinely start along the path to growth and prosperity, changing the curse story to one of resiliency and optimism.

If you keep giving money to every touching story you are told, you will be the next touching story. Allegorically, to borrow from the Bible: "from glory to glory"—Gambians are never sorry. It's always the same story.

The ear is patient, but the silence is heavy.
Sometimes, being heard starts with being underrated, persecuted, or corrected publicly. Less is more. Privacy is power. And mystery creates wonder.

Therefore, who, exactly, cursed The Gambia?



© All Rights Reserved! Thank you for reading and following my blog. Email: modoulaminsowe1@hotmail.com

Monday, May 12, 2025

Super-marketization of The Gambia, Political Boutiques, and Social Mini-markets: Article by Modou Lamin Age-Almusaf Sowe

       Disclaimer: I don't own the picture.


The chicken swallows pebbles, drinks water, and eats grains. Yet, she complains of having no teeth. If she has teeth, will she eat gold? Let her go and ask the cow that has teeth but yet eats grass. Cut the grass and let the snakes come out. That's the current status of our country's political landscape. Privacy becomes a mini-market, politics turns into a supermarket, and a lack of respect for authority and elders becomes a boutique. Our society has become so demoralized to the extent that there is no middle left. You're either in the very far-left or in the very far-right. 

The politics of hate and destruction should be expunged from our soil. But if you want to know how, when, and where, you were born, go and stand in an election in The Gambia; assume a public office, or closely work with the government. To make a child remarkably embarrassed, insult his mother. In the words of Ashanti King Osei Tutu Kwadwo (Ghana) to the British Governor Sir Charles McCarthy on 21 January 1824, "I will use your skull as a drinking cup, and your jawbones to beat my drums if you dare to invade." Should Gambian elders start using this adage on the youths? Better still, the South African word vulindlela, a Zulu and Xhosa word that means "make way" or "clear the path," which is often used in the context of a wedding to instruct people to make way for the bride and groom, can be suitable for Gambian youths. We should start telling our youths 'vulindlela' if they don't want to be told how they were born. 

What we need today—what I call the new intellectual young man— is any man or woman who is willing to think responsively. Meaning—young people who know that a man’s life must be guided by reason, by intellect, not by feelings, wishes, whims, or mystic revelation. Our youth must value their lives and not give in to today’s cult of despair, cynicism, and impotence, and they must not intend to give up the world to the Dark Ages and to the rule of the collectivist brute.

As John Henrik Clarke famously observed, “Powerful people cannot afford to educate the people that they oppress, because once you are truly educated, you will not ask for power. You will take it.” The politics of opportunism adds to this exhalation. Let's get things right: visibility without value is just noise. Clout may bring crowds, but it doesn’t build trust or long-term results. The truth is less poetic. Destruction is a joint venture. But the citizen who throws garbage in the gutter and the official who sells a hospital contract to his cousin—they belong to the same machinery. Don't they? This is the conception of super-marketization in Gambian politics. A society that advocates for immorality and teaches foolishness in schools; it is no surprise to see the elephant laying eggs in our national park. That's the level of our social cohesion. Popularity has become a suitable yardstick to measure who runs for the presidency in a country where nothing is enough for a man to whom nothing is actually enough. What we are witnessing today is not just a failed society with moral degradation or public apathy; but it’s the slow erosion of divine knowledge on all sides. What the scriptures call the disappearance of knowledge—that's exactly our time. 

It is advisable to refrain from incurring additional debt of ingratitude to party politics and political affiliation should we wish to develop as a country. Our future, as a country, is too valuable to be diminished by ongoing youthful obligations. I am a fan of education, and in fact, it is good for every young person to learn dividedly and have a say in our affairs as a country: but we must not allow women to continue giving birth to insignificant children who amount to nothing other than disrespecting elders on social media. Young girls who do not wear panties nowadays and young men who bet their lives in the name of football. What a wasted sperm! The Gambia must commit to making a decision that will facilitate a rigid law-abiding society in the name of transformation. While the process may present challenges, the benefits are significantly necessary. State information and private communication must not be carelessly divulged in the name of vying for the presidency. 

Having conducted a philosophical cross-examination of our national problem, I can conclude psychologically with a prognosis that our problem frantically started immediately children who overfed on cornflakes, poop on the potty, and among them those who didn't suckle the breast of their mothers, graduate from university. Young people who speak English more than the British and dress in suits and ties. Those who know more than their parents and their teachers; young men who were circumcised at the hospital; 

These are the kinds of young people The Gambia is seeing: emotionally drained youths who vent their frustrations on social media. In those days, with just one look, elders sent children to the conventry and made them suffer the indignity of unremembered graves. But the post-Jammeh era is a generation of baby walker children who now run for president simply because of gardening fame from a village as remote as Sarre Pateh. Interesting, isn't it? That is the height of our country's name on the planet.

Instead of young people having mentors and learning to be responsible citizens who add value to our society, they often glance at our elders and their calm demeanor, unwavering patience, and consistent positivity, and mistakenly assume their path has been smooth and easy. What they fail to see are the countless battles they've fought in silence—the times they felt completely drained, yet somehow found the strength to rise again. They don’t know how many moments they stood at the edge of surrender, questioning whether they should keep going. They haven’t seen the inner wars they’ve waged, confronting fears, traumas, and doubts that threatened to consume them. Their resilience was forged in fire, not comfort, and their journey has been one of quiet courage, relentless perseverance, and a strength that defies easy explanation.

A few years ago, if you had stumbled on any profile on Facebook, you wouldn’t have seen much—just a flower as a profile picture. But all that changed when President Adama Barrow ushered in "freedom of speech and assembly." It is time to initiate an occult of humility and simplicity. There are only two times I become speechless: when I see highly respected elders in our society responding to youths who pee on the potty (poop sï pötti sambur, it is called in Wolof); and when I see haphazardly educated youth with only WAEC results and plenty of F9s advising President Adama Barrow on Facebook. It makes me laugh at our intellect as a country. 

Patriotism isn't a decadence; it's a calculated investment of responsibility, and in today's modern wasteland of cheap popularity, hypergamy, and entitlement, the youth must vet politicians like a high-stakes business deal. If you don't, you will be just another famous Bob Keita.

I’m a naturally reserved person. I wasn’t trained with social media shenanigans, and I never saw the need to post anything—not even birthday wishes. My page was just there… silent. The urge to promote Gambian literature and publicize my writings led me into social media usage. 

In today’s noisy world, focus isn’t just a habit—it’s a superpower. Be so grounded in your purpose that distractions no longer have a say. You don’t need to chase every shiny thing—just the one thing that truly matters. In both my professional and social life, I apply three ethical principles (Kantian, Utilitarianism, and Virtue ethics) to avoid offending and treating people unjustly, at least not intentionally. So, if you ever feel offended by any of my actions, I am sincerely sorry, and please forgive my shortcomings as I am only human. 

But the Kantian ethics taught me that my only motive for doing good is when it is a duty (moral and/or legal), not out of personal interest, and must be universally applicable. 

Utilitarianism reminds me of the consequences of my actions. The utilitarian perspective of good moral ethics is mainly concerned with the consequences of an action and balancing its relative advantages and disadvantages from the standpoint of creating the greatest good for the greatest number of people, in my view. This means that in order to assess an action as being right or wrong in a given situation, one must look at the consequences of applying that action and take full responsibility for your actions. 

Virtue ethics, on the other hand, has taught me an approach according to which the basic judgments in ethics are about character. In virtue ethics, an action will be considered right if it is what a virtuous agent would do in the circumstances. Virtue ethics tend to consider the personal values of an individual, with the notion that if the virtues of people are encouraged, then there would be no need for problem-solving since each and every individual would be acting from the goodness of their heart. Not so?

If ever our country is to develop, the youths, who have a key role to play in our development, must be both patient and educated.




 © All Rights Reserved! Thank you for reading and following my blog. Email modoulaminsowe1@hotmail.com for more information.

Saturday, April 12, 2025

6 Reasons Why Some Men Leave After Sex


The owner of this picture granted copyright usage of her image.  ©️ All rights reserved!


In the intricate tapestry of modern relationships, love can be both a beautiful journey and a perplexing maze. As we navigate the emotional landscapes of romance, it’s essential to understand the factors that can lead to heartbreak. 

While every relationship is unique, there are common reasons why some men may choose to leave women after becoming intimate.

Here are six reasons that shed light on this phenomenon, offering insight into the complexities of love in today’s world.

1. Physical Attraction vs. Emotional Connection

In the age of instant gratification, many men may initially be drawn to physical attraction. However, once intimacy is achieved, they may realize that the emotional connection is lacking. Love is not solely about physical chemistry; it requires a deeper bond. If a man feels that the emotional connection is absent, he may choose to walk away, leaving the woman feeling confused and hurt. 


 2. Unpleasant Experiences vs. Post-Intimacy

Intimacy can be a beautiful expression of love, but it can also reveal unexpected realities. For some men, an unpleasant smell coming from a woman’s private parts after sex can be a significant red flag. While this may not be a reflection of the woman’s worth, it can lead to discomfort and a quick change in perception. Men may associate this experience with a lack of hygiene or health issues, causing them to distance themselves emotionally and physically. Secondly, it could also be associated with the man noticing you have had an affair with many men prior to making love. Men can quickly notice a promiscuous woman after having an affair with you. This can degrade your worth-- and thereby making them walk away silently.


3. Fear of Commitment

In today’s fast-paced world, the fear of commitment looms large. Some men may enjoy the thrill of intimacy but shy away from the responsibilities that come with a serious relationship. After sex, they may feel overwhelmed by the prospect of commitment and choose to retreat rather than confront their fears. This can leave women feeling abandoned and questioning their self-worth. In a nutshell, most men leave after satisfying their needs.
 They don't want any intimacy thereafter. Perhaps the only time they will talk to you again is when they need sex. This can only happen for two reasons:

1. When they don't have any intention to marry you at all; and/or;
2. When they realize that you're too cheap and available to sleep around with every man.


4. Desire for Variety

The modern dating landscape often encourages a mindset of exploration and variety. Some men may engage in relationships with multiple partners, seeking new experiences rather than long-term connections. After intimacy, they may feel that they’ve satisfied their curiosity and move on to the next person, leaving their partner feeling discarded. This behavior can be particularly disheartening for women seeking meaningful relationships. Men are scum in general-- they are always carried away but looks, shape, and beauty. It's very hard nowadays to find a man who is only committed to only one woman. Very hard to get. 


5. Misaligned Expectations

In many cases, men and women enter relationships with different expectations. While one partner may be seeking a deep emotional connection, the other may be looking for something more casual. After intimacy, if a man realizes that his expectations do not align with those of his partner, he may choose to leave rather than navigate the complexities of differing desires. This misalignment can lead to feelings of rejection and confusion for the woman involved. When a man is ready to marry and the woman is not ready, oftentimes, when he sleeps with you multiple times-- his chances of leaving are higher. Just very high because he enjoys your sexual company rather than having a deep emotional connection with you.


6. Influence of Social Media and Peer Pressure

In the digital age, social media plays a significant role in shaping perceptions of relationships. Men may feel pressure from their family/peers to maintain a certain image or lifestyle, leading them to prioritize casual encounters over meaningful connections. After intimacy, they may feel compelled to conform to societal expectations, choosing to leave rather than invest in a relationship that may not align with their perceived status. Just to add that what they see on social media-- and what is available in real life-- are very different. Most men are carried away by beautiful pictures women post on social media, using amazing filters. But when they meet them in real life-- and notice differences; they tend to lose interest in them quickly. Lastly, men do not want to marry social media ladies. They are the first type of women every man wishes to sleep with, fully knowing that they can never marry them. Never!



Conclusion

Love in today’s world is a multifaceted experience, filled with both joy and challenges. Understanding the reasons why some men leave women after intimacy can provide valuable insights into the complexities of modern relationships. While physical attraction and chemistry are essential, they must be accompanied by emotional connection and mutual understanding. 

For women navigating the dating landscape, it’s crucial to communicate openly about expectations and desires. Building a strong emotional bond can help foster lasting connections, ensuring that love transcends the fleeting moments of intimacy. Ultimately, love is a journey that requires patience, understanding, and a willingness to embrace both the highs and lows along the way.


Click on the link to subscribe to my YouTube channel:



Thank you for reading. © All Rights Reserved! Kindly email me at modoulaminsowe1@hotmail.com, or, send me a message on Whatsapp at (+220) 7791631.

Sunday, October 20, 2024

"Left-Eye" poem by Modou Lamin Age-Almusaf Sowe


Even when Rihanna sang everything to the left, 
I'm still eating with my right hand;
I understand The Gambia couldn't still find the right man.
But break, broke, broken,
Let it break.
The broken pencil still writes.
Let the donkeys brake.
Let the pastor and imam preach
There is still sex on the beach.

So you don't still know I see both Satan and the Anti-Christ?
The reason why every dog barks at me in The Gambia 
Is bcos I ain't part of the movement that derail Christ 
And praise Jesus Christ,
But hallelujah to this screaming;
Amen to this healing.


Welcome to the New Age.
In the Book of Enoch,
Chapter one, page one,
Paragraph six of 2026;
Let's turn a new page gently.
The sun has already risen from the East,
War in the Middle East;
The NBA headed to the East;
Gog and Maggot arrived with ease, 
Enough of the East!


Listen!
Expect Abraham Ibn Ashram. 
Next is the continent of Africa.
Who are you people still voting for?
Let the rest rest in peace
And the death finds peace in pieces.
"She knows, she knows,
And I know she knows,
Alright."
The real rapper defended his thesis 
It is sad to read such speeches,
Such things don't only happen in music. 
I wrote a letter to Satan,
The next morning my image was tarnished.



We've successfully burned the Quran and the Bible without burning them.
Have we not had enough agenda at the UN?
What else is my mission?
In our religion, 
When you eat beef,
Don't ask how many cows are in a steak?
We're so accommodating like a housing estate.
So, let's ask, how many cows in a steak?
Allow intellectuals continue seeing their mensuration
Until Achebe resurfaces. 


Listen,
An era of natural disasters strikes,
The planet is ours,
But before 2030,
Don't use my name in vain.
See how I turned your intellectuals into prostitutes,
Your teachers are agents of the devil;
Your parents are my enablers;
And then, I turned you and your child in the new age. 


I am the reason you worship your phone and false prophets 
The reason why every young person is tryna sell a soul.
We're all sinners in disguise,
But I made you addicted to pornography, 
Forced you to use condoms,
Drink contraceptives,
And now you're a whore.
Well done!
I'm ISIS in capital letters 
And abortion in small letters.


Listen!
I'm the devil's Bible and the sinners Qur'an 
I ran marathons in your mind;
Do you see how I'm controlling the world?  
I'm a religious crisis.
By my grace, I am the final prophet.
I influenced a generation of mobile addiction, 
Sex and dating, 
Kissing and immorality,
And flirting and hating.
Admit that I'm hateful, 
Enraged, and ungrateful.


See how I'm successfully making you learn foolishness in school
Yet, you claim to be knowledgeable?
Stupid!
Hi hater, yes I heard you talking.
Bravo, but that shit was boring.
Am I not the one who invented social media? 
Who is discrediting your profile?
Who really is the Savior of Planet Earth?
I turn your value into likes and followers,
Make your presence online, 
And reduced you to a mouse with a click on the internet.

Listen, 
I inspired a generation of boobs and big buttocks,
Alcoholism and drugs,
Dancing and shaking of asses,
Wealth and more money. 
C'mon, honey.
What y'all bitches masturbating for?
You dress indecent but don't want to be called a prostitute; 
Bitch, what's your name?
My style of writing is too harsh
I don't decorate the truth in a pavement.
Who really is the King of Saudi?
Just too supernatural to comprehend, 
But when schooling kids in kindergarten,
Teach them ABC.
Every gardener needs a crop,
But I am the apple of your eyes and your spotify children.

Should I still tell you I am the left-eye?
It's funny I'm the writer 
Every writer is tryna beat now,
Even underground writers with a big mouth.




Explanation of the poem titled "Left-Eye" written by Modou Lamin Age-Almusaf Sowe.

The poem is a "sarcastic poem" written as a protestant vilification that foretells the coming of age in contemporary African and global poetry, indecisively.

It both revealed and predicted the future plans of the "Illuminati" in the coming years, and happenings across the globe. Referencing from the holy books; it exonerated the arrival of the Anti-Christ and Gog and Maggot. 

The poet, using euphemism, sarcasm, rhythmicity, innuendo and paradoxical iambic pentameter, provocatively insinuates his revolting against the secret society personally and socially.

Linking music and poetry to lyrically and intellectually disintegrate societal values, the poet begins with opening verses from a song by Rihanna, "Everything to the Left", noting that the song was evil because it praises Dajjal, the left-eye (one-eye).

The poet teaches that a certain group of people in society becomes famous, powerful, rich, and influential because of their affiliation with the Illuminati.


To schedule or book me for public lectures/ book launches/ conferences/ readings/ motivational speaking events, etc., please email: modoulaminsowe1@hotmail.com.

 © All Rights Reserved! Thank you for reading and following my blog. Should you wish to use any of my articles, kindly address your message to modoulaminsowe1@hotmail.com. 

Copying any of my articles without written permission is an infringement of Copyright.

Monday, May 20, 2024

You Never Loved Me - Poem by Modou Lamin Age-Almusaf Sowe

I am full. 
Of me. 
Blessed. 
Free. 
And.
Grateful. 

Free calls
With Africell 
Customer care
On flight mode 
Up in the air 
Do I care?

Some days,
I forget who I am
I can’t see the light 
I am lost from within 

I look around
It’s dark and vast 
Everyone is gone 
Nothing lasts 

My loving eyes,
My soft touches,
My strong, solid anchor,
Once outsourced. . .
I am left with nothing but rancor
Toss and cheers to alcohol 

I understand now that I'm misunderstood 
You don't understand me
So let me explain: 
I thought that in time what was bad would turn good
I love you from the centre of my heart 
From where the blood gurgles in its search for oxygen 
I breathe you into my soul for healing each time my heart threatens to hurt.


Aware of my victim hood
Forged in childhood
Perfected in adulthood 
Into nationhood 
I am in the hood 
For the chicken, poddles, and noddles 

Miscommunication 
Retaliation 
Resignation 
Obligation
But to what,
Sensation?

I trusted love 
I dated lies 
I kissed romance 
And hated you
Followed my course 
Leaned in
Reached out
Got back on that wench
Sit on the bench 
And drove a Benz 

Now I falter
Confused 
I refused 
The news 
Don’t know where I’m
What’s been the purpose?
What was the lesson in that?

Heartbreak 
Lies
Cheating 
Sex
And romance.
Is that all?

Every truth I believed that this world had to offer 
I question entirely 
I’ve filled up my pockets 
With theory and rationale 
Gleaned from my process
It’s dissolved into nothing, 
I’m empty.
You never loved me.
You love the money,
The fame,
And the cars.





© All Rights Reserved! Thank you for reading and following my blog. Should you wish to use any of my articles for research, lectures, personal use, etc., kindly address your message to: modoulaminsowe1@hotmail.com. 


Tuesday, April 2, 2024

Man with No Friends



In the silence of the night, I weep
For a life that seems so steep
No friends to call my own
Just enemies disguised in a friendly tone

This is probably the most me I've ever been,
I'd been to places you've never been,
I've got plenty enemies among jinns and human beings,
I don't fear the sting of bees,
I'm an 'A' student and never got Bs,
I've departed:
I'm, I, was, are, were, been.
Bingo, Bissou to Binko,
Being,
Just let me be.

I'm a man with no friends
A compound with no fence
A dollar with no pence
A verb with no tense.

My success breeds jealousy and hate
As others plot to seal my fate
People pretend to help, but behind my back
They whisper words that attack

Every young person dreams to be
Just like me, so carefree
But little do they know
The weight of success, the price to show

Alone in my journey, no one by my side
As I watch my dreams slowly slide
Away from my grasp, my heart so heavy
A soul so pure, yet so unsteady

No love to warm my lonely nights
No joy to fill my empty sights
Just the sound of my own thoughts
Echoing in the silence I fought

I, a man of intelligence and grace
Struggling to find my rightful place
In a world that's cruel and unkind
Leaving me shattered, lost in my mind

But despite the pain, the loneliness and strife
I continue to fight for my life
For I know deep down inside
That my spirit will never subside

So as the tears fall from my weary eyes,
I lift my head up to the skies
And vow to keep pushing on
Until the light in my heart shines strong.



My special wishes to you! To schedule or book me for public lectures/ book launches/ conferences/ readings/ scriptwriting/ keynote/motivational speaking events, please email:

 modoulaminsowe1@hotmail.com 

 © All Rights Reserved! Thank you for reading and following my blog.

Monday, November 27, 2023

Honeymoon (Poem by Modou Lamin Age-Almusaf Sowe)


Disclaimer: Modou Lamin Age-Almusaf Sowe doesn't own this picture, and permission is therefore sought from the copyright owner.

Note: The lady in the picture is nothing to Modou Lamin Age-Almusaf Sowe apart from a friend.


We met immediately the rain stopped beating
Pompously across the Bertil Harding Highway
And the stagnant waters gathered on the road
To confidently discuss national problems...

I became your problem
When I splashed a colorful of lovely
Waters on you accidentally;
My heart stopped beating in my chest.

I apologized to you in Spanish
Ashamed and nervous;
You looked at me twice
And I looked away in hesitation.

I feel like putting a knife in my throat
And slice myself into pieces for you.
I regretted my actions and inactions
And I displayed my shame on MBC Action.
  
Dressed in African-Gambian
Purple bazin riz,
Glittering in your natural beauty
Without make-up,
Waiting for a car to pick you up,
That evening, the Ramadan departed for Jerusalem
To pay homage to the Jews.

Just like a thief escaping from stealing,
Your shoelaces fit my shoes.
Hot body, everything looks perfect like a painting.
You mute my emotions.
 
 
My instincts told me to apologize in Chinese
But destiny told me to speak of humanity
When weakness became my language.
I sigh away from eye contact
And I gave you my contact.

Looking at your toes
When I said sorry regretfully,
Biting my nails and shaking in my trembles
My nervousness donating me blood
For my heart failures.
 
Friendship grew between us
With time, we set the pace.
On the phone and in space,
It took me so long to write this poem.

Walking down the beach
With our heads bow down;
I can't look at what you can't look at in me.
Our hands are observing social distancing.
Even a car could fit between us.
I sweated a gallon of smiles.
Wanting to tell you
How I feel
 
When the keys to the door of your singleness opened
The padlocks broken,
The shops of Serrekunda market wide opened 
Proposing to you in broad daylight
Sighing from the afternoon,
Little do you know
The date lied on the calendar.

The day I put a ring in your finger
The sky tasted ginger
Kneeling before you
Humbling myself on my knees
Angels announcing our marriage up in the skies
I couldn't sleep that night
I cut myself but couldn't bleed
The sexual healing...
That feeling
When the pastor said,
"You may now kiss the bride"
I kissed all the bridesmaids
When we locked lips.
 
Waking up in Dubai
Making your breakfast
Touring the Palm hotel
And naming our kids Paul, George,
and George-Paul.
I woke up in New York City 
Looked at myself in bed
And realized it was a dream.


 © All Rights Reserved! Thank you for reading and following my blog. Should you wish to use any of my articles for research, lectures, personal use, etc., kindly address your message to: modoulaminsowe1@hotmail.com.

Featured Post

Who Cursed The Gambia? An Essay by Modou Lamin Age-Almusaf Sowe

            Disclaimer: I don't own the picture above. When I was growing up, I always felt uncomfortable whenever I saw highly talented...