Even when Rihanna sang “everything to the left,”
I’m still eating with my right hand.
I understand The Gambia still couldn’t 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 still don’t know I see both Satan and the Anti-Christ?
The reason why every dog barks at me in The Gambia
Is because I ain’t part of the movement that derails Christ
And praises 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 Magog 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 dead find 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 Qur’an and the Bible without burning them.
Have we not had enough agendas 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 to continue seeing their menstruation
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 into agents of the devil,
Your parents into my enablers.
And then, I turned you and your child into 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,
Flirting and hating.
Admit that I’m hateful,
Enraged, and ungrateful.
See how I’ve successfully made 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 turned your value into likes and followers,
Made 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 indecently 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 on pavement.
Who really is the King of Saudi?
Just too supernatural to comprehend.
But when schooling kids in kindergarten,
Teach them A-B-C.
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.
Arh read the entire piece in confusion. This will have been great when you make a summary of what you meant in the poem else people like me are only enjoying the lines not understanding what it means.
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