A Voice from Nigeria

Hannah Faleti I. has spent a lifetime in Nigeria. She is currently living in the cosmopolitan city of Ibadan, north of Lagos and the Gulf of Guinea.  She begins law school in March of 2018 at Obafemi Awolowo University where she hopes to become an advocate for civil rights. Her poetry and writing reflect the grand dynamics of her homeland of Nigeria. Hannah will curate a weekly series of postings from Nigeria for Introvert Press.

Please visit Hannah’s Facebook Author Page to interact with the author.

Feb 1, 2018

Corruption is slowly eating up Nigeria and sadly no one is ready to put an end to it.

Here is a poem I wrote about it.



Why have you come, you ravenous beast?

You feed on our flesh, you tear our guts

We are your prey, the monster we fear

You strip us of our pride

You snatch our dignity from us

We run to those who say they hunt you

Only to know they nurse you

You have made our mothers weep all day

Our fathers bite their fingers in dismay

Your howls have come to steal our sleep

Why have you come, you ravenous demon?

You ignore the dried tears on our cheeks

You turn deaf ears to the cries of young ones

Waylaying them on the way to the future

Our blood quenches your thirst

In those eyes, we see pure evil flames

Those claws have made marks unforgotten

Long fangs bringing along nightmares

Why have you come, you ravenous destroyer?

I wish we all live to see your end

But to face you, we all abscond

Endless fear pushes us against walls

With painful heart, we have embraced you to stay


Jan 25, 2018

Rape cases are getting worse in Nigeria. Nowadays, men believe their hungry libidos will be satisfied when they force themselves on young girls (1 year and above). It’s really sad, tainting those ignorant, innocent girls.


I’m the newly molded clay.

I’m the new shimmering fabric.

I’m the new seed, bringing more.

I’m the precious stone, untouched.

As the clay, the flood has come to wash me away.

As the fabric, pain has come to rip me apart.

I’m no longer the seed, the wind found me.

No longer precious, the stone has been touched.

I’m the wall that bears the cracks.

I’m the broken pitcher, who shall pick me up?

I’m the withered flower, trampled, destroyed.

I’m the Queen, I’ve lost my kingdom.

As the wall, I shall soon fall, soon crumble.

As the pitcher, the grasses shall choke me in.

As the flower, years shall make me vanish.

As the Queen, I’ve no pride, no crown.


Jan 18, 2018


Pride is your blood
Beauty is your skin
Your dignity unsoiled
Courage, your bones
Kindness crowns your heart
Of pure joy, your smile speaks

The damsel of men’s hearts
Crowned One of strength
Pain is your meal
Down your throat, the pills of dismay
How will I not revere you?
Woe is me if I uncherish you
Blistered palms cradling me
Golden tears, they flowed for me

You tend my life’s flames
While yours, I see, flickering
The gates of future opened wide
At your feet lay broken barriers
Little is what I can say of you
Boundless, eternal, unsaid

Time is here, it yearns for you
Death steals your breath, you’re fading
But Queen, even after you’re gone
You have a kingdom, indestructible
It shall stand through years
It shall bear your name