The Mid-night Dream ( A Poem)

At 3 a.m.,

Monday, mid-night,

While half sleepy and awake....

I saw a woman in my dream

Fetching water from my stream;

Quaking in her shoes;

Hair rounded my toes

Sitting beside me:

Just so close to me,

Touching my head,

Alive and dead.

I got more aware of the year

Of her origin from nearby

She saw the happiness in my heart

Tearing an intellectual me in a hearth

Wearing my heart on my sleeve

Like a new fashion called ML-vee.

I need a bite out of your apple, like Adam and Eve

This love, I owe thou, you must receive

For long,

I've been young and strong

Trusted, loved, and plagued

To ants who don't know my value

Took me for granted

Forgiving them my talent to be graded

Marked them my students in a test

For thinking, they'd best

Finding and never found

Wrong pairs I did bound

I can't find the heart in sweetheart

SWEETIE my HEART

Listen let me explain

A poetry text so plain

I'm misunderstood?

For years I stood,

By the woman of betray-

Gave her my heart on a tray

She traded me so low

Mixed with sunlight and snow

At the market of lies

To lizards and flies

Artificially learned men

Thugs of omen

Who ain't on a letter of the alphabet in my book club

Ignorant men who the only cub

That lass is last

Because I broke her deal at last

Need raw flurries to fructose

Energize me with your glucose

I'm crazy for you like a crazy-glue

This feeling I felt for you is so damn true

Sweet like a piece of cake

I'm now alerted and awake

Sugary like an angelic sugarcane

Jonny and John McCain,

You can't walk in my shoe

This garden needs a hoe

The black god to the church

Sang a choir of my punch

Love me and I'll love you more

Hate me and I'll show you hatred

Woman of my dream,

Rub me off your body cream

Lips like the Gospel of Mathew

Eyes like Suratul Nisa

I'm laying in the grave

My knowledge is natural and brave

Aiming at your smile

Piercing across the Nile

Are you willing to sacrifice your life?

To be my DARLING wife

I'm living in the future so my present is my past

Phrases and clauses at last

Let these doubters ask the climbers

Where the top lays in the chambers

There, I'm sitting rotten with health

Come raped my wealth

Defile my chest

For being single and zest

Unhuman and inhuman

For us the humans

I am incessantly willing

Of course, not, not joking

I fathom your heart

For  the wisdom, I'd craft

Be the snake of my human

First Lady, you to be your man

Only your finger fits my ring

She doesn't know why I gave her a thing

Which itself made her who she's

That unintelligent mind who speak me

Come, my dream woman--

Let the dream continue;

Come, bite my lips 

Chew me on the mouth

Eat me raw

Lean me against the wall

The verdure of love cost my eyes

Dying to tell you you're nice

Light is striking twice in this place

Red-blues, the height of this race,

She thinks I'm bordered

No, I'm even bored.

So, I pick a piece of song

To correct her wrong

Www.YouTube.com

Just type this it will come

Listen to Big Sean, "I Don't F**k With You"

So I don't f**k with you

Including you and all haters you

Talk bad about me if you wish

For the good I did for you, that all saw in bish

If you understand, Modou Lamin Sowe is Modou Lamin Age-Almusaf Sowe

And Modou Lamin Age-Almusaf Sowe is Modou Lamin Sowe

A MESSAGE FROM MODOU: All Rights Reserved!
Thank you for reading and following my blog. Should you wish to use any of my articles for personal use, research, lectures, etc, kindly address your messages to: modoulaminsowe1@hotmail.com. Copying any of my articles without a written permission to, is an infringement of Copyright. I hope this blog post finds you well and the new year has begun on a great note. I am well too and looking forward to a great 2018 as I engage more with you. I appreciate you for being part of my 2017 readers around the world. I write to tell you that you can now translate all my blog posts into any language in the world . Simply type the language of your choice in the textbox below the inscription " Pageviews", it can be found on your right-hand of this page. You're all important to me, for everyone as I look at the wholesome approach to the discussion on overall African protest literature and the link to religious poetry from a person-centered view.

READ ( A Poem ) by Modou Lamin Age-Almusaf Sowe

READ!

Read the alphabets of mankind,
The common subject of thought,
Taught by the moon above the sun.
Tell knowledge it is but to know.
Tell man he is but an error.
Tell them that wisdom is a gift
That resembles knowledge.

Like a broken conversation
Laid to rest in the grave of sensation,
Whirling to a stop
In the middle of a sentence.
The human mind stammers,
Endlessly hoeing an arid patch,
Fuelled by the aridity of petrol.
Low vocabulary is not knowing many words.

As a result,
Fraying into the gutters of deception,
The string of the balafon beats,
Its sound preceding legends into beetles.
Cowardly spoken, silken old cottons
Dress the human of my description,
Fitting into the ignorant cap worn
On the heads of civilian flies,
Buzzing around lust and love.

Let greed judge the creed for bearing grudges,
The guilty for not being innocent.
Tell betrayal it is but courage,
Nakedly pronouncing time.
Readers do know,
And the ignorant read not.

READ!

Iqra! (Read) in the name of your Lord.
Read not to gain this world.
Read religion, read God—just read.
When you learn, teach.
When you arrive, act like you have not reached.
When you have, give.
When you know, do not say all.
Trek where the fools fall.
Read, shall you?

Knowledge is found in reading,
And ignorance is reading nothing.
Read!
If you want to know—read!

READ!

I see Muslims who do not know the Qur’an,
Christians who do not know the Bible.
From my far left, I see a nation without citizens,
Driving around in the car of the lost.
I see animals creating an Animal Farm.
I saw the ghost of George Orwell.
I saw a divided Africa as a result of not reading—
Ironically divided for reading in the name of Satan.

---

Explanatory Note

This poem, READ!, is a passionate literary intervention against illiteracy, intellectual laziness, and moral confusion, using reading as both a spiritual command and a civic responsibility. Rooted in the Gambian and broader African context, the poem exposes how the failure to read—religious texts, history, literature, and the world itself—has contributed to social decay, ethical contradictions, and political disorientation. The poet presents reading not merely as an academic skill, but as the foundational act of becoming fully human.

The repeated command “READ!” functions as a moral alarm. By invoking Iqra—the first revealed word in Islam—the poet reconnects literacy to divine instruction, reminding readers that knowledge in African societies was historically sacred, purposeful, and transformative. The poem contrasts this sacred reading with what the poet calls “reading in the name of Satan”: selective, manipulative, and self-serving interpretations of knowledge used to justify greed, betrayal, division, and exploitation. In this sense, the poem critiques not only ignorance, but also miseducation and intellectual hypocrisy.

Through dense imagery—the moon teaching above the sun, broken conversations buried in graves of sensation, flies buzzing around lust and love, and the echo of the balafon—the poet illustrates a continent trapped between inherited wisdom and abandoned responsibility. References to Animal Farm and George Orwell signal political allegory: societies repeat oppression because they have not read history deeply enough to resist it. The image of “a nation without citizens” reflects populations physically present but mentally absent, disengaged from critical thought, civic duty, and ethical reflection.

Ultimately, the poem is both indictment and invitation. It indicts societies where Muslims do not know the Qur’an, Christians do not know the Bible, and citizens do not know themselves. Yet it also invites humility, action, and generosity—teaching after learning, giving after having, and remaining modest after knowing. For Modou Lamin Age-Almusaf Sowe, reading is not for status, profit, or power, but for truth, God-consciousness, and collective awakening. The poem insists that Africa’s healing begins with a return to meaningful reading—reading that enlightens the mind, disciplines the ego, and restores moral clarity.

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

The Forest of Silence ( A Poem)

A silent calabash full of milk
Abandoned in the human forest of silk
Among pregnant female trees
Virgin flowers with honey-bees
Squinting into the even light
Welcoming the darkness of the night
The idle wind whirls by
Sounding loudly nabby
The air venerated
As the mountains prostrated
Along the thickness of the forest
I heard the dead talking at rest


The trees pounding their roots
For the looks at loots
The elephants are drinking
The birds are singing
The ants playing the traditional band
The rabbit told me her man
Does she listens?
There she hastens
Fly the birds of Sankandi
Howl the dogs namby-pamby
The Baobab fights with its roots
Not all trees fight with their roots
The drought in the jungle
Gave up for the long struggle
The forest raise the dirge of silence
For the change of weather and finance


Sourcing the rivers of corruption
For an annual condom celebration
Spent for sickness of a toad
To construct us a road
The lions are angry
And the sky hungry
I told you I did
Rhymes so splendid
Dance the zebras of thought
For the fight we both fought
A divided State of Global Animals
Are better than a United State of Mammals
Let the baboons tell you my intellect
Spoken in the forest of dialect
Man causes climate change
Yet burns with range


You brown men milking our cows
We deserve your bows
Because we're animals and weak
Dry leaves add this bushfire at steak
For man will always smoke cigarettes
And we animals: will pass a bill in our Gazettes
Stop taking poor people for fools
Because we made your swimming pools
Made your beds and furniture
Science is nature
Your African hands
And hateful minds
Can't cease this pen
The animals made me a lion in the den
And I write till I get a chest pain
You can read me up to Spain

A MESSAGE FROM MODOU: All Rights Reserved! Thank you for reading and following my blog. Should you wish to use any of my articles for personal use, research, lectures, etc, kindly address your messages to: modoulaminsowe1@hotmail.com. Copying any of my articles without a written permission to, is an infringement of Copyright. I hope this blog post finds you well and the new year has begun on a great note. I am well too and looking forward to a great 2018 as I engage more with you. I appreciate you for being part of my 2017 readers around the world. I write to tell you that you can now translate all my blog posts into any language in the world . Simply type the language of your choice in the textbox below the inscription " Pageviews", it can be found on your right-hand of this page. You're all important to me, for everyone as I look at the wholesome approach to the discussion on overall African protest literature and the link to religious poetry from a person-centered view.

JESUS WILL COME ( A Religious Poem )

PART 1:

Lying into the sea of blood

Drenched with blindness

Harmed and bleeding

Where the sleeping slept

Embracing my sweet-sweat

Bombs just dropped

Destroying global crops

Thugs of pains at it again

Drifting the time over the lane

Flying around in a plane

Like a dream of bugs

Racing in atoms

Bees of wars

Sting the anus of chiefs

Kept in hives

Steal not the honey

To earn the money

The Mahdi is coming

 Jesus too is coming

Who else is coming?

The Antichrist;

For his arrival drives

Flew Israel to where the flies fly

To ruin Syria where the pliers ply

Seek the true seeker

Do not believe in The Legend of The Seeker

The seal of the seer

Chew not the meat of a deer

Throw your bottles of beer

Smoke no more for the noon

Wake up for the moon sighted

A crescent of frivolity

Co- meddled with forks of plates

Played full of tasteless food

The war to establish good

To which I speak, I differ

To a global concern, I refer

Peace I prefer, sorry I'm far

The death of those with wisdom

To raid the kingdom

Scared the film of my king-kong

Mumbling from rumbling

Rung tumbling humbling

Bordered my bumbling

Sorry if I'm bungling.

PART 2:

Welcome the final leader of our time

This poem is mine

People are scared of the truth

And hate truth-tellers

But love fortune tellers

This shrine is God

The known should inform the unknown

For the cry of onions

Sliced with a knife of life

Affecting lives for strives

Superstitions rule for years

The Turks and the Kurds

To all the wisdom in the world

Tell them the Mahdi is around

It's to you I call

You, we've been waiting for

Come to the son of Mary, the guided one

Come rain, come rain

Free the animals in the zoo

Sing the lyrics of the scriptures

God has seen your silence

Silent for long

Not you're not strong

But waiting for Jesus

To whom you must lead this poem

Let science lie

Tell religion what is right

Break the bones of darkness

Spread the light

Save my soul the rain

Cry me the gates of destruction

For a war afar

Set like a star over the sky

God knows why.

Tell the ignorant why I write

Death will die

When it's due to cry

Cry men the sea of sorrow

From near and afar

Nearer is a day tomorrow

The saints are not far

Jesus is near

The truth is one

For the lie, we can't bear

Witnessing bad deeds done

 Representing these letters

For the unlettered

Numbered in lies and ignorance

Hear the sound, alarmed like a clock

For a concrete human block

The first horn has been blown

Sounded to take the lives of all good people

So that the earth will be filled with chaff

And evil will prevail

True wisdom will derail

Turn verses to lectures

For the ugly vultures 

Oblivion of the human crocodile

Living in the Nile

These holy ants are all liars

And these learned lizards are deceitful

Adding to the lie

They can't subtract me

I'll never be equal

Dress like a Muslim

But act not even Christian

And I just sold a copy to a reader

I think her name was kinda like

Katy Kate Johnson

Or Kate Katy Johnson

Met her in a dreamlike land

Taught by my pen to understand

 Dying in the rain

 Remembered and forgotten.

A MESSAGE FROM MODOU: All Rights Reserved! Thank you for reading and following my blog. Should you wish to use any of my articles for personal use, research, lectures, etc, kindly address your messages to: modoulaminsowe1@hotmail.com. Copying any of my articles without a written permission to, is an infringement of Copyright. I hope this blog post finds you well and the new year has begun on a great note. I am well too and looking forward to a great 2018 as I engage more with you. I appreciate you for being part of my 2017 readers around the world. I write to tell you that you can now translate all my blog posts into any language in the world . Simply type the language of your choice in the textbox below the inscription " Pageviews", it can be found on your right-hand of this page. You're all important to me, for everyone as I look at the wholesome approach to the discussion on overall African protest literature and the link to religious poetry from a person-centered view.

THE FROWNING COAST ( A Dramatic Poem)

Part 1:

When the butterfly flew where the bird flies,
When the cat chew the meat a dog fries.
Smile the Frowning Coast,
You were once the Smiling Coast,
Holding on to a past that's gone,
All truthful lies said and done.
The green forest is tired,
Accused and retired.
Still, the bushfire don't cease,
The Gambia the Smiling Coast, once a land of peace.
Is now suffering barren lands,
Caused by tongues and human hands.
Agriculture called a prostitute,
Without love, hatred and division is a substitute.
The line has been drawn for separation,
A daylight coup and tribal isolation.
To satisfy a Gambian,
And not a Zambian:
Consider everything is wrong
Because they all know, and so very strong.
Smile the Frowning Coast,
You were once the Smiling Coast,
You have no place to hide,
For the scorpion takes too much pride,
Tribalism and hypocrisy;
Made your hazelnut crispy,
Now the rich from the poor,
There's no true window from a door.
The rulers from the ruled,
The ignorant v.s the schooled.
Each ant got rude,
The t.v. watch nude.
Students skip school,
Teenagers now dance naked in a pool.


Part 2:

Smile the Frowning Coast,
You were once the Smiling Coast,
Why hunting specific races,
And slapping their faces.
These tribal inequalities,
Shamed my spiritually.
A headcrown on a mission,
We now see changemakers with no vision.
The eye of shame to see real beauty,
Makes the new Gambia very filthy.
The blind cannot see,
The sight of the unseen.
The weather of hatred this season,
Is lovely warm and cold for a reason.
I see a throng of mobs,
Sounding in silent sobs.
In a van of hope,
Chilling and smoking dope.
An Apprentice saying: " Serre-Kunda! Serre-Kunda!
A Passenger replied:"Lufa heew,  I'm going to Manjai Kunda!"
Another Passenger also said:
"Ya ham teh hammo tuss"
A Lady in the van said:
"Apprentice Johma suma pass,
Dama yakamti":
The Apprentice added:
"Madam, awma change mann, seen!":
The Lady responded:
"Moo, jangulo tuss!
Teh hamulo gaat!"
The Apprentice finaly said:
"But I can sing the national anthem."

Smile the Frowning Coast,
You were once the Smiling Coast,
Stop anticipating for change,
In the paint of range,
By trying the innocent and freeing the guilty,
For having been once faulty.
"Taxi! Town trip,
Seidai bama grip.
Take me to the galaxy,
Let me drink and get drunk of insanity,
Which is destroying our peace and humanity.
Politics makes the leaders so much tougher,
The poorer we become, the more we suffer. "
Progress, Peace and Prosperity,
Had been turned into adversity
Red, White,  Blue, White,  Green,
Now a destroyed land all have been
Justice is no longer guiding our actions,
For The Gambia now is lying for auctions.
Toward a common good,
As we become more hungry for food.

The Frowning Coast,
Sorry for the pain, today, yesterday and tomorrow,
Leaders come and go, even Kaddy Barrow.
Come peace embrace us instead,
For unity and our strength, we should spread.

A MESSAGE FROM MODOU:

 All Rights Reserved! Thank you for reading and following my blog. Should you wish to use any of my articles for personal use, research, lectures, etc, kindly address your messages to: modoulaminsowe1@hotmail.com. Copying any of my articles without a written permission to, is an infringement of Copyright. I hope this blog post finds you well and the new year has begun on a great note. I am well too and are looking forward to a great 2018 as I engage more with you. I appreciate you for being part of my 2017 readers around the world. I write to tell you that you can now translate all my blog posts into any language in the world . Simply type the language of your choice in the textbox below the inscription " Pageviews", it can be found on your right-hand of this page. You're all important to me, for everyone as I look at the wholesome approach to the discussion on overall African protest literature and the link to religious poetry from a person-centered view.

THE FAILURES AND THE SUCCESSES OF THE AFRICAN UNION: THE STATE OF AFRICAN LEADERSHIP, THE CONTINENT AND THE PEOPLE ( Teaching Material )

Since the African Union was founded on 9 September 1999, with the actual objective of uniting the continent  and accelerating the process of integration in Africa, maintaining peace and unity and to serve a vital role in the global economy, and to addressing the social, economic and political problems of Africans. The Continent for 19 years now had been briskly pounded into the mortar of retrogression and taken a dust bath into the tenets of war and division—then, let me ask you my dear reader, what is the need for their existence? The United Nations ( U.N) was founded in 1945 to replace the failed League of Nations which could not prevent the Second World War: but how many wars have been happening on the African continent? What has been done so far to earnest the conflict which had raped the continent for decades ?


As I lay awake at night, and ponder without hope, I shudder from the newly wedded siblings of disappointment that chokes my blood vessels with shame across the continent where I grew up. Pains long enough to fulfill a mad man’s destiny,   had been successfully enrolled into the silent university-college of my humble thoughts,— “Poor Africa”, the thought of Africa,  the continent of poverty and the land of pest and diseases; casted a spelt out of my throat. Do you know the only factories I see in Africa? They're: the manufacturers of lies, jealousy, bribery,  corruption,  rape, tribalism, greed, pride, ignorance and the desire to cause the death or failure of their fellow Africans, with the ultimate aim of inheriting their sweat, wealth, position or property- or even just to see them fail in life. Justice must never be ashamed to speak in our mother tongue. The vulture faiths on the death even it is old. A heinous act increasingly unpardonable— I embodied a mind that sees beyond the seven colors of the rainbow, as I understand the language of intellectuals and do ignore the pretense of African nations with their people who are not even near intelligence; but uninformed and just unlucky-  I am very optimistic to say this quite aloud that ignorance is a natural rain in Africa, with which our crops grow-- and the produce of which we eat as food.



An African easily underrates, quickly judges and fastly concludes- do you know the human resources we have in Africa? They are : witchcraft, jealousy, fighting, lying, pretending we know it all, poverty,  ignorance, and above all killing and derailing any individual African who can lead and unite this continent. Factually, Africans will willingly remove the person from power even if it means they're being influenced by any foreign power to label their leaders as bad, overstaying in power, being corrupt, or abused human rights. Especially, if the African leader in question captured power through a coup-- Africans will never see the person's efforts but will join the lexicographers to give weight to the word "Dictatorship"  and  help us define a "Dictator", that's why we have the Oxford Dictionary of English,  Cambridge and others-- and not African Dictionary of any language. Guess what Africans do after removing,  killing or jailing our leaders? They'll  start complaining of bad leadership. Today in Libya, they're crying for murdering Mohammad Ghaddafi, they're languishing without a president, and the country divided. Today all over Africa, when you mention names like Nelson Mandela, Thomas Sankara, Steve Biko, Kwame Krumah and others. Every African citizen will lament their death and wish they were alive. But I ask you my fellow Africans, do you know exactly why Mandela was jailed for 27 good years? Do you know the traitor (s) who led the expedition for killing Ghaddafi and Thomas Sankara? Do you even know why I'm writing this? Because Africans will never value each other and will never shape the destiny of their leaders: but will always live to remember them when they're gone.


With genuine reasons,  both Mandela and the aforementioned late African leaders knew very well that they'll one day be rulers and must rule, but they fought forces you never saw- both supernatural and physical forces led them into the room of misfortune for knowing who they were.  To date, we've plenty of reasonably brilliant, naturally chosen by God, and undeniably honest and gifted people in Africa who can move this continent; but they are those we forced into exile, leaders you fought and removed from power, those you killed, those innocent people our leaders killed, those intelligent African youths denied even entry to universities abroad, those poor and wrecked silent men and women in their poor houses, those you always envy hearing their names , those you don't want to accept; asylum seekers you think are nothing and laugh at. I have explicit respect for the people mentioned above: I later knew that most of them have more knowledge than anyone you think is knowledgeable, but we're just silent in a world that is talkative. I don't solicit attentions when I write, and I don't care who reads what I write or not because I'm a protestant writer who's bold enough to speak the truth confidently without fear. I dearly know that I do hugely impress some people who read me for knowing exactly why I write: as a result, I cannot work with most of our African leaders both in my own country and elsewhere in Africa because they belong - and I know where they belong; where only those with sight to see the supernatural can see and understand. Let us all accept the fact that "the black man is a symbol of poverty, mental inferiority, laziness and emotional incompetence."Africans will always have a dream at night but wake up in the morning to only speak about democracy and freedom of speech- even without knowing it: and later derail those with the competence to govern our countries and continent, that is why corruption in Africa is a way of life.



Before colonialism, we were ignorant and very primitive, colonizers came and even helped us built schools to be educated: we later complained about independence, they granted our independence but we failed to rule ourselves.  Africa is the source of three-quarter of all raw materials, minerals and natural resources--but we cannot do anything with them than selling them and war for even having them. Making the troubles of Africans my worries, I felt this literary pedigree of our discomfort so sorry—a loftiness of a non-fiction story, beneath the annals of history. Some of us live all our lives in ignorance and will never RESPECT those with perfect wisdom and foresight to both see and rule our countries and continent. To undress the naked fibers of my shameless African sweat-glands,  the AU’s budget depends on the support of its partners, a token that often dominates their summits. As a result, African solutions to African problems continue to be a priority for the organisation. The AU continues to work hard to find avenues through which mainly centers towards self-sustainability. To add pain to sympathy for my African skin in the bedroom of shame for seeing those holding PhDs, double-masters degrees from renowned universities in the world, and fluently speak many different languages; globally known and valued as intellectuals and professors: both of them and African leaders and heads of states, still cannot fuse their knowledge together to bail the African Union that runs the risk of placing African unity above the promotion of international norms, such as democracy and respect for human rights.



The African Union remains sceptical of "NATO " due to its intervention in Libya and Nato’s reluctance to allow any AU influence over the campaign, which itself had generated a great deal of offence amongst the African leaders during the incident in Libya and even at present in some countries in war in Africa. Why should AU be only negotiators and the source of sending peacekeepers than solving all the wars across the continent? But still there's war in Africa and the African Union and ECOWAS are often having meetings and partying the taxpayers funds,  for what?  Meetings upon meetings--what have they achieved? A headache of a rich man is far more better than the death of a poor man in Africa. When a poor man dies, he is buried with dignity for being poor and had nothing—but if a rich man does, his ghost dies ten times in his grave before he is finally laid to rest. Sorrow has made the African milk sour, this venom of pain had stung our hearts with hatred, tribalism, jealousy, mourning and poverty. Is it when we cry blood these acts will be condemned? How can African elections be free and fair and our leaders be just when actually predecessors who held those positions are on-behalf of our country owing the EU, IMF,  World Bank and all other international agencies;  yet,  we'll vote for a new president to rule our country and continent,  and so, instead of devising ways to pay our debts,  he or she will take more loans, develop only those areas  that voted him or her-- and then steal more money and when we're frustrated, we kill them , impeached them, jailed them, or even stage a coup.
And yet, we complain about bad leadership in Africa. Who is just fooling who here? When will we wake up from this century of sleep and stop civilizing hope in today's African leaders who baked our hearts with ponderings of misdemeanor. I’m understood by only those who understands philosophy and have knowledge of the supernatural world, soil me in your human earthquake to better explain to you the degree of doom and decadence I felt in the hearts of disturbed future African leaders. We have to form an alliance with each other in Africa to end these—it is God Who has the eternal key to lock every door, but man was born naked and must die naked. Death is the separator of the dear from the dearest— the dead are not happy anymore in Africa. Some died innocently, others gave up their properties, some abandoned in the darkness of hatred, and others gave up in professional hatred at work that killed them. Jobs in Africa are now embattled for, to the extent that some people had to send others in their grave so that they can be a “Country Representative of UNHCR”, “ a Director”, “just a mere Protection Officer”, “ a Minister”, what can I add— and a “President”. That best describes the evil seen by the uniformity of evil seen by the naked corridor of my weary eyes, as they got blown away by the wind of sight idiomatically. Africa has indeed a great battle to fight aside from poverty, hatred, jealousy, ignorance, greed, pride and evil are the most vital things to be fought for eternity, if ever, there will be a United States of Africa; we must be freed from the bondages of evil--and the youth must be ready to face the challenges.


INFO: You can now translate and read all my blog posts in any language. Simply select the language of your choice by clicking on the textbox on your right below the inscription "Pageviews".

All Rights Reserved! Thank you for reading and following my blog. Should you wish to extract any of my articles for personal use, research, lectures, etc, kindly address your messages to: modoulaminsowe1@hotmail.com. Copying any of my articles without a written permission to, is an infringement of Copyright.

Did I not Say ( A Poem of Condemnation )

Did I not say
As evil governs the night,
The dawn will forsaken the light?
Did I not say they are ruling the world?
They, the 'Illuminati' (Baphomet);
Who thinks inhuman,
Sees every man as a woman:
And a woman as a mad man;
Amongst them is Zeeman.
I heard that Zeeman causes a global plight,
To show he's a knight,
I heard screams of  fright;
Sounded so strange last night.

I heard the responses and screams,
Brought Africans so much creams.
I heard there's an evil aspirant,
Who hates Muslims and immigrants:
Now has turned to Africans,
Did he understand Afrikaana?
I heard African leaders got hurt so deep,
For things they can't  keep.
The news is widespread on the press,
 For knowing who's Zeeman;
He's this very ripe man, who looks like a pawpaw,
Like a dog,  who barks howl howl.


Did I not say:
Some nightmares can be real,
But this one is very surreal.
I heard a broken voice-
Pounded a temperamental noise,
Sobbing for a lack of choice:
Knowing our leaders failed us.
Signification....
Striken a matchstick from a land far off
Bargained in the market of absurdity ,
As the fire sparks,
Burning the beauty of Zanzibar Forest,
 Crashing against the fence of global division-
 Mountains speak to a fortress,
For owning this distress,


Pounded by a remarkably nice indecent speech
Blurred by the speaker of pride,
Who thinks whatever he does is right:
Tell him,
In the garden of fear there's now courage!
We drink both champagne and porridge,
Our crowns responded to this rash;
Spoken by a tycoon who owns some plenty cash.
Africa, the home of tyrants and might:
The zoo of elephants and ants,
Our forest echoes with wild animals;
We sleep on trees and dress in leaves,
For sting of bees,
We fear not peas.


We heard this justification,
With a high condemnation.
Our leaders of error heard vocal expressions,
Through airwaves echoing into our ears.
Did you hear?
What just happened this year?
An inhabitant of the supernatural,
Who lives in this world as natural,
He's a president now-
Don't ask me how?
Have you not heard he's chosen to prevent?
Of course, prevent, the Third World War?
But he's causing it.


He stirs trepidation and dismay,
This butterfly now declares himself a bird,
He's provoked the ants,
Defined us as prostitutes;
And think we're termites.
After escaping a fight,
He nearly ate a North Korean sauce,
Will he taste that soup?
Coward!
He's no nuclear button on his desk,
Only open his shirt to show his chest;
The forest of the world has a nuclear desk,
Just one button to press:
Ballistic missiles as home address.


Call the animals to join this feast-
For the constellation of a beast,
 Our seas are armed with ships of sailors
African workshops are now sewing factory of clothes
Our rivers flow to their banks:
Our leaders failed our crops;
But now, the land failed our efforts.
We're rather too determined to proof you wrong,
To show that we're strong-
 Tell your master (Satan) that evil shall perish,
That power rules power:
That information is liberation-
And we're a united continent of nations.
Darkness can't extinguish this light,
The present us have the might,
To show you that:
Our leaders are productive gardeners of infertility
Whose ignorance leads to this insensitivity .

All Rights Reserved! Thank you for reading and following my blog. Should you wish to extract any of my articles for personal use, research, lectures, etc, kindly address your messages to: modoulaminsowe1@hotmail.com. Copying any of my articles without a written permission to, is an infringement of Copyright.

My Love Goes By (A Poem)

By the river as it fluctuates to its banks
By the rain as it washes the earth
By the snow as it freezes
By the sky as it claps among the clouds
By the heart of men in trust and love
By politicians as they lie and steal
By leaders as they lead in lies
By the women who born
By newborns as they are born,




By the flowers as they turn into fruits
By the trees as they born new leaves
By the fire as it burns
By everything that goes round and turns
By the mountains as they stand
By sugar and salt
By chocolates and sweets
By all the animals in the jungle
By the insects and insecticides
By pest and diseases
By hunger and poverty,



By the holy books and their content
By writers as they write
By the scientists as they discover
By economics as they economize
By religion as religious as it's
By the riches and the poor
By the scholars as they teach
By the painters as they paint
By literature and nature
By history, the present and the past
By music as it entertains
By dancers as they dance
By the thunder and lightning
By the tornados as they strike
By the dead and the living.

When the moment has passed,
When the beginning was the moment,
When men were men;
When the children were children-
When there was shame:
When women were women,
There is No deity worthy of Worship but ALLAH  ( God ).

STATEMENT ON THE OCCASION OF MY 28TH BIRTHDAY ( 7 January 2018)

All Praises be to ALLAH, the One, the All-Powerful, the Forgiver, Most Gracious and Most Merciful.

I bear witness that Muhammad Ibn Abdallah ( blessings and peace of ALLAH be upon him) is the Best of Creation and Messenger of God, who guides to the Right Path and I testify my believe in all other messengers and prophets of God: from Adam to Isa, Jesus ( peace and blessings of ALLAH be upon them).


On this occasion of my Twenty-Eight year Birthday,
I would like to extend my deepest and warmest regards to my few loyal friends, my family, well-wishers and my dear readers all over the world. Your service is incomparable and your reward is inestimable to me.
 In tandem with my work as a writer,  the Holy Qur'an says in Suratul Al-Hadid chapter 57 Verse 10 that:'' Those who spend in charity shall be richly rewarded''. I say as well that writing itself is a form of charity in which the writers share their wisdom to educate, inform, advocate for something, or persuade a particular group or people to accept something worthwhile .
Aside from writing and blogging, I teach as well exactly the way I speak and write truthfully, boldly and confidently. Since writing is not as lucrative as it should be in The Gambia: and the African continent at large.  I would like to reaffirm my commitment by quoting from one of my books entitled; ''SPIT OF MISERY'' which is my first poetry collection-- I said; 'all writers are critics but not all critics are writers'. I hope you will join me to make my birthday unforgettable.



 I am glad that it will soon come to an end. I always celebrate my birthdays by fasting( though this is something I just prefer doing), praying the five daily prayers correctly,  giving charity from the little I have; even if it means lacking--offering prayers to God, visiting  the grave and reminding myself about death.
However, I never solicited gifts from love ones and family  alike, although most of you ( them) suprise me with things I never expected. Since you never asked me about things I like for my birthday, I will tell you. I like to be simply reminded about God, eating dates( this, I don't hide, especially the dry one) or eating bush bay, locally call Tomborong or Seydem in Mandingo and Wolof, Maggariya or Daaray in Hausa and Djarma respectively. I also like reading , seeking forgiveness and showing people some gratitude.



When my lovely unforgettable Christian friends give me gifts of any kind, I thank them enough in the highest of manner because celebrating birthdays  involving cakes and other things, is  actually for them which I respect them for their religion: though some Muslims do the same which is good for them.
As I humbly thank everyone on my birthday, I am reminded about death which has no time or permission, and sadly,  most influential writers don't live long to eat from their sweat, or explain to us the content of their natural gift which they alone have.



 I wish William Shakespeare was around to tell me what did he mean by saying : " It is nobbler to forgive than to take revenge", or that Nigerian Chinua Achebe could have been alive to also tell me what he meant by saying : "If you don't like someone's story,  you write your own." I'm happy to know in Africa many people don't like stories bearing the truth;  or that writers who are very just and preach nothing but the truth. Achebe attested to that in the citation above.
Today, we live to read from these renowned authors whose lives we have no idea where and how they started: the power and sight they possed, to see beyond human thoughts,  to themselves opposed those I am opposing who are opposite God.



Time has come for the entire world to sconce the voice of splenative rheumatism, prescript enough as a requiem of religion than rather foaming bubbles of appurtenance on press and social media--gagging out our gait and carbuncle the bloody stains of our dying political cerements.
I'm so apoplexed with the measure of antic comments exasperating our collective savoury during birthdays of some fellow Muslims ; whatever it takes, celebration or thanksgiving; each does better for all. It's an imposthume to impawned our religious obligations with termagant non- Islamic practices ostentatiously oustretched to inoculate our perpend.

 

As a devoted Muslim,  my fellow Muslims all over the world will agree with me that Allah said know me before you worship Me. Evidences in the Qur’an and Hadith indicates that Muslims celebrating birthdays is a kind of bid’ah ( adding partners to God) or innovation in religion, which has no grounded significance in Shari’ah ( Islamic Law and Jurisprudence ). In Islam, it is not accepted to accept invitations to birthday celebrations, because this involves supporting and encouraging bid’ah ( adding partners to God.)

The Qur'an tells us:

“Or have they partners with ALLAH (false gods) who have instituted for them a religion which ALLAH has not allowed…?” ( Al- Shoora, Quran chapter 42 verse 21 )


This does not mean we shouldn't celebrate our birthdays-- but celebrating them in a way contrary to Islam,  is forbidden for Muslims ONLY . The Qur'an says:

“Then We have put you (O Muhammad) on a plain way of (Our) commandment. So follow that, and follow not the desires of those who know not. Verily, they can avail you nothing against ALLAH (if He wants to punish you). Verily, the Zaalimoon (wrongdoers) are Awliyaa’ (protectors, helpers, etc.) to one another, but ALLAH is the Only Wali (Protector, Helper) of the Muttaqoon (pious).” ( Al-Jaathiyah, Holy Quran chapter 45 verse 18-19)


According to indisputable and highly authentic facts, the Prophet (peace and blessings of ALLAH be upon him) said: “Whoever does something that is a not part of this matter of ours (i.e., Islam) will have it rejected” (reported by Muslim).


In the service of  creative writing, blogging about the truth, philosophy, religion and this inexplicable natural gift from God I am endowed with; I cannot but always remain:

~Modou Lamin Age-Almusaf SOWE .

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A Letter Poem to African Leaders ( Modern African Protest Poem 2018)

                                                   Voice of the Pen
                                                   The Blogger on the Den,
                                                   Epistle
                                                   Self-Exile,
                                                   15 May, 2016.


All my Readers,
African Leaders,
On all Social Media
Except Wikipedia,
Online.
 Dear Sir/Madam,
                                Modern African Protect Poem 2018

Excellencies: Happy New Year!

Your Excellency Sir/ Madam,
Have you not kindly
Listen,
To the whispers of black bees:
Innocently jailed in hives,
Matter of lives.


We heard you banned use of hard drugs,
To get rid of useful African thugs;
Yet, the African headache not faded.
In the tongue of lies, honor upgraded,
From our leaders we trust,
Whose heart's metal of sight is corrupt. Sir,
Destroyed is our soil,
And our continent spoil.


Have you no shame?
For the blame.
Tell my readers, my writer's address,
Rhymes with my receiver's headress
For writing what's never written,
Like Jordan and Pippen.

Africa is crying,
For the naked sauce of political insult frying
In the pan of silence,
For over paying rent in Pence
In foreign lands,
With ECOWAS and AU hands.

When unity can't bid us together,
Climate Change raped our weather.
This letter heals?
Perhaps, failed trade deals.
Wole Sonyinka was jailed twice,
Nelson Mandela for 27 years, so as rabbit and a mice?


In vain the dead must weep
For our wet pants dried in the sun
Under United Nation's house of fun
For making you shame buttons on
For the battles never won,
But Your Excellency Sir/ Madam,
You had a little too much to bring
And no sense of a king.
We are yet to see another Mandela,
But watching another Cinderella.


                                                                   Yours Sincerely,
                                                                   Signed:                                                                           The Voice of the Pen.
                                         

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ONCE UPON A TIME ( A Poem)

Once upon a time,
The hour was mine.
Without riddims or rhymes,
Dancers sang mimes.


When weakness was wean,
The Gambian soil a bean;
Darkness was governed,
Light misconstrued.
The Atlantic Ocean swelled,
The sky smelled.


Farmers were development tools,
Feeding politicians in schools.
Now that green is exiled,
New parties emerged in textile.
The nation campaigns,
For the celebrations of champagne.
Democracy with indiscipline,
The youth altered their norm line.

Their ignorance posted on timelines,
Happenings in the Gambia bitter like limes.
Like letters in the silent sky,
Except to ask why?
In the past, farming was the answer,
To reduce poverty and hunger.


Despise the pain we've been,
Amongst ants 'n human bees,
Of jinns 'n human beings.
Now the country is naked,
They say speech is freedom:
For fools without wisdom.

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A Letter to the Vice Chancellor, University of the Gambia (UTG)

 I write with a great aplomb and unbreakable string of inexplicable respect, to genuinely disclose a hindsight of foreseeable national plight affecting every facet of your deservedly highly praised University. My reason for writing to you becomes a disillusionment at variance with a sense of detachment on past aspirations towards your predecessors. I reasonably write this letter to define my blustery petrel of nationalism which has defied my anticipation.


Of understandable civility, I do hope that the sting of discomfort on my chin hopes to smart in perpetuity for accepting my "Congratulatory Message" to you--having assumed the office which serves as the eyes and ears of every erudite and unscholarly Gambian.
As Paul Beatty, the Manbooker Prize Winner echoes in his best-selling book, The Sellout, which reads: "Human carnage and mistake is always filmed and remembered in the highest definition. The images of the past always burn into our memories and plasma screens of sight to recall."


Makes the smokes of expression burned the inside of my throat. After a long pause, I finally want to say, Honor my Chancellor, I plead human. This letter is a citation of interest in your honorable institution of wisdom, I plead service en masse on an affirmation-action that truncates our country's name.The Gambia, our country as you may know is the smallest of the only countries on planet earth - where tribalism is a constitutional right - and jealousy and hypocrisy a priority first.


My research paper, 'Seeking Knowledge in Philosophy of Science and Religion' teaches that: "In a country where knowledgeable people are disrespected - the youth suckle from the breast of ignorance." If modern law is to be modernized,  and laws made out of parliament to be revised and revitalized in the coming Twenty-Second Century: The Age of The Anti- Christ which is not my topic of discussion.  The Gambia under the first democratically elected government should be one of the African countries to pass a bill against ( Wolof: Sohorr ak Inyan) ( Mandinka: Hasidia ning Jawyaa).


 Agreeing with me that an honorary degree is an academic degree for which a university (or other degree-awarding institution) has waived the usual requirements, such as matriculation, residence, a dissertation and the passing ofcomprehensive examinations. The degree is typically a doctorate or, less, commonly a master's degree, or bachelor's , and may be awarded to someone who has no prior connection with the academic institution or no previous postsecondary education. The degree is often conferred as a way of honouring a distinguished citizen or a visitor's contributions to a specific field or to society in general.

For over three hundred years, U.S. colleges and universities have bestowed honorary degrees on people for their lasting impact on society - politicians, musicians, writers, actors, clergymen, corporate CEOs, sports figures and then some. It all began at Harvard University in 1692, when the Ivy League school gave the first honorary degree in the United States to Puritan clergyman Increase Mather. However, honorary degrees had been granted for over 200 years before this (the University of Oxford gave out its first honorary degree in the 1470s). Then, the degree was given mainly to scholars.
 Such diverse individuals as author Elie Weisel, comedian Bill Cosby, and former heavyweight champion Mike Tyson have been awarded honorary degrees. My honorable Chancellor, The Yale University as part of its honors programs awarded the famous Senegelase inventor of "Mbalax",  Prof. Youssou Ndour for his outstanding contribution in the world of music. How about renowned Gambian Jaliba Kuyateh, the King of Kora?  Prof. Dr. Henry Carrol, retired director of the Gambia National Library, Abdou W. Mbaye, Hon. Halifa Sallah, Dr. Langfafa Dampha, former P.S. Baboucarr Boye,  Mr. Momodou Sabally the Gambia's Pen, Prof. Fodey Baldeh a publisher, critic, grammarian and editor, Prof. Nana Grey-Johnson, Dr. Baba Galleh Jallow, Dr. Baba Sillah, Dr. Tijan Sallah, Prof. Michael Hamadi Secka, Dr. Cherno Omar Barry, Dr. Musa Bah ( Tha Scribller ), etc. It's even more disparaging to recall how prolific Gambian scholars in the likes of late  Dr. Lenrie Peters, Sheikh  Oustas Bun Jeng, Sheikh Oustas Abdou Gitteh,  Musa Affia Ngoum, Ossulo Njie Senghor, and of recently, Dr. Raphina Philott Almeida, etc, could all be laid to rest to suffer the indignity of unremembered graves. Their history forgotten, and their might extincted amongst fallen knights.

 I am happy to know Dr. Pierre Gomez has been academically and ceremonious conferred a" Prof", which is loudly commendable and undoubtedly deserving of such an erudite embodiment of scholarship and dissertation in him. I hope his department under your tutelage will put this letter into consideration, and to hereinafter ameliorate the faculty of arts and sciences with similar programmes, despite the existing honors in your university. In one of my new books,  entitled; 'An Island of Silence' , I said: "when flowers turned and become fruits,  they always tend to forget that they're from a plant." I bet the ferociously intelligent and season of Gambian scholars will nurture the young people in our country who merit mentorship, in order to hold the roots of our country's educational future at equilibrium - thus,  the settled Gambia High incident.


Honorary degrees recognize those who have made profound and enduring contributions to scholarship, culture, and improved quality of life in society at large. Achievements of national or international significance deserve priority consideration. It is important that recipients be persons of great integrity, as the choices we make reflect our values as an institution. Hence it is sometimes recommended that such degrees be listed in one's CV as an award, and not in the education section. With regard to the use of this honorific, the policies of institutions of higher education generally ask that recipients "refrain from adopting the misleading title and that a recipient of an honorary doctorate should restrict the use of the title "Dr" before their name to any engagement with the institution of higher education in question and not within the broader community. Rev.Theodore Hesburgh held the record for most honorary degrees, having been awarded 150 during his lifetime


I would like to recommend to your office the  "Introduction" of The Honorary Degree and Undergraduate Degree awarded in rare and exceptional circumstances.  The purpose of these honor is to recognize individual Gambians who may or may not have been admitted to, or graduated from the University of the Gambia under exceptional or extraordinary conditions.

 For example in USA, the first recipient of the Honorary Undergraduate Degree was denied admission to the University due to her race, not on the basis of her academic qualifications. It is anticipated that the awardees have distinguished themselves within their community, state or region.

The Types of Honorary Undergraduate Degrees to be Awarded at the UTG may include :

Bachelor of Arts (B.A.)
Bachelor of Science ( B.SC.)
Etc,

Titles of Honorary Degrees available for conferral at the UTG may also include:

Doctor of Arts (D.A.) – Design, visual, and performing arts

Doctor of Humane Letters (L.H.D.) – Service to society (humanitarianism) and scholarship in the humanities (journalism, communication, history, philosophy, language, and literature) and social sciences

Doctor of Laws (LL.D.) – Law, public policy, and public service

Doctor of Science (Sc.D.) – Science, medicine, engineering, and related fields

In conclusion,  the Bible says in 2 Timothy 4:3: “For the time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching, but having itching ears they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own passions.” In the service of creative writing, philosophy and nationalism, I cannot but always remain:


Yours Sincerely,
Modou Lamin Age-Almusaf Sowe,
Author / Librarian / Poet and Playwright;
Founder/President of the Young Writers Association of the Gambia  ( YWAG),
Interim Assistant Secretary General at the Writers Association of the Gambia  ( WAG).



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SPEAK OUT Mother Africa ( A Poem )

Speak, will you?Africa Speak!
Spread your hands,
Play the traditional bands,Sing our:

Raw materials ,
Talent and;
Human resources.

Speak the lips of joy
Deactivate your silence
Be revamped 'n renamed
 Of a wondering continent,
Speak out Mother Africa!



 The youth need your milk to breastfeed
The continent of unrespected voices
Lecturer of war 'n harborer of crimes
The continent of pest 'n diseases
Our dignity is being riped off
Our unity zip zipped off
 For a lack of cooperation
Bad representation in the United Nations
The news broadcast what our radios don't speak on the press



Be detetmined from a distress,  Oh mistress! Cooperate! Use a rake and rate the stars:
Achebe
Mandela
Ghadaffi
Sankara

Not modern speakers!
Changemakers in sheep clothing
Held our objectives sailing
Wallowing endlessly
Regardless of the holes in their pockets
For being political pickpockets
Speaking in disrupted bells of governance
Democracy with hypocrisy
Rights with dead batteries in a torchlight



 The disgruntled voices made more noises
Silent in our battered houses
Shattered into flights
Dancing naked with scattered pains
We're missing the Mugabe quotes
As his resignation gave notes
Cooperate MOTHER Africa!
Will you? Trash AU
Reshuffle ECOWAS
They're rubbish in a bin
Noisy bling blings
Whose meetings determine
An evaporated water on the road
And the dead of a toad



Cooperate with USA 'n UAE mother Africa
 As slaves of humiliation chained in politics  Threatened 'n abused in our pants
By the great constitution of nations
 In the forest of cowardice
 We drenched in our blood of fright
Clapped in delight
Time to speak out!
 Speak out Mother Africa!



Voices from afar 'n within
Our shame shall be resolved in witty
 Write hashtags, let's match the streets
 Sing boldly 'n wholly
To bid farewell with our songs of sorrow
For a better tomorrow
We must be heard even it's hard



SPEAK,  SPEAK, 'n speak out!
Time to get our abused voices into a microphone
We need Afri-Phones
Not IPhones
To SPEAK,  speak,  and speak out for EU Cooperation in Africa

The Pain Is Gone (A Poem)

O'er the land I'm overlaid
Weighing motion in emotion
 Overloaded in the ostentatious origin
 Overcame to overcome in the overclock

 I'm overcast, dressed overcoat
Suffered overall-
 The clock ticking overtime
My efforts are overwhelming
They overlooked
I'm overpaid

Did you hear the overflow?
In the overlap
Overblown today
In the outskirts of an outsold ovation
In an orchestrated nation

Over the damsel of an off cell
Overdue in time
Things overdone
But I'm off the done
I'm licking the ice on  the tongue


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The Orphan ( Spoken Word) on YouTube

You may be relieved from stress and pain should you not have been in a happy mood TODAY. As a therapist of emotional discomfort, I diagnosed this piece of poem to reinvigorate the dying strength of orphans in their dramatic shifting and life-long struggle for success.
BE INSPIRED READING
The Orphan ( Spoken Word):

https://youtu.be/x9Pe-q-Nhks

Listen to another Spoken Word by Gambian Author and Young Scholar, ModouLaminAgeAlmusafSowe. Click on the video and watch lyrics of the poem titled: The Orphan. Edited and produced by PrinceJawara, an iconoclastic video-editor, professional producer, a prodigy and computer genius. Courtesy of PrinceJProduction. #Associátion_Nop_Sa_Jekarr_Group_Deff_Mu_Nekh. #WeInVirtue!



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THE HOPE THAT CRIED ( A Poem)

When our love was so young 'n fresh

We blossom from the family tree

You implanted your seeds into my womb

I gave you five splendid sons

I loved you to the depth of my heart

Until my hope cried

You broke your vows

What did she has that I lacked?

Am I not a woman?

You promised to love only me

I have never known a man except you

You met me as a virgin, pure 'n stainless

Now that my bones are old- 'n' my skin withered

You married a woman among women

We've fought 'n we quarrelled,

With so many reasons to leave you

But I cling on you like a child

Behold in my spirit 'n patient

You made my legs your home

Until I am use to only you

Why should you abandon me with my children?

Please! 

For the sake of our children; don’t leave me

Don’t make me to regret ever loving you

Remember so many fine men proposed to me

With their cash and kind

 I rejected them all for you

I love only you until you have

You threw me apart 'n forgot you past

When you used to live from hand to mouth

Had I known, I would have left you the way you were

Now that I am an orphan

Have nobody else but you

You have chosen to ostracize me

You sank me further into my miseries

You precipitated me into worries

The Lord shall judge between us

All Rights Reserved! Thank you for reading and following my blog. Should you wish to extract any of my articles for personal use, research, lectures, etc, kindly address your messages to: modoulaminsowe1@hotmail.com. Copying any of my articles without a written permission to, is an infringement of Copyright.