Hey guys, soooooooo I published a poetry book

Hey everyone, it’s been how long since my last post? Almost a year? Wow, that’s shocking! I think it’s also very telling about how life has been for me since April 2023 (when I last posted on this site). There are many events that have happened since last April, the purpose of this post though is to highlight on just one of those events, the release of my debut poetry book: ‘I Can’t Go Back to Sleep.’ 

A photo of me reading some of my poems at my book launch on 2 February 2024 at Coventry.
A photo of me reading some of my poems at my book launch on 2 February 2024 in Coventry.

While thinking of how to write this, I considered it best to provide some history about how I found myself here. How did I become a poet? Backtrack to June 2018, I was in Nigeria, I had completed my master’s at Coventry and returned home. I had some personal events that transpired a few months earlier that left me with feelings of confusion. I couldn’t get thoughts about this event out of my mind, I found myself thinking deeply about it and making no progress in my thinking. Upon realisation of my mental standstill, I turned to poetry, to help unpack these thoughts, make sense of them and ultimately express them creatively. This eventually led to my writing of the Infusion of Light short poetry collection.

Before my return to Nigeria, I spent significant time with three friends who ultimately influenced me in a way I would only later discover while in Nigeria. These friends were Mabel (or Maybelle), Ade (or Adetiloye) and David Ajiri, they were all poets. Before my Nigeria-return, I did not see the writing of poetry as something that was for me. While with these friends, I heard about poetry, read some of their poems and marvelled at the ability of words to create ‘inexpressible’ beauty. I admired their poems and valued the art form of poetry. More importantly, through these friends, poetry became real and personal to me. I got to see poetry as something accessible, as a form of expression not for Shakespeare only, but for people like us too – people who came from where we came from, people who spoke with a familiar accent, people who looked like us, and people who could relate with our life experiences. In hindsight, I realise that these friends unintentionally paved the way for me, so through this post I wish to give them the honour that they deserve.

A photo of me, Mabel and Ade
A photo of me, Mabel and Ade, 2019.

Though I had not initially seen poetry as something I would later try, trying it while in Nigeria was not much of an audacious thought. I could try poetry because I knew actual poets whom I confirmed were actual human beings as I was friends with them. For your influence on me I say thank you – Mabel, Ade and David!

A photo of me and David
A photo of me and David, 2017.

So, we’re nearing the end of this post and to conclude I think I should address the subject of poetry writing itself, why write poetry? I think people of all backgrounds should write poetry because, in no cliché terms, poetry is a window to the soul. Poetry helps to uncover hidden aspects of personality, identity, life experience and more. It helps to give words to feelings and experiences that can’t be touched but felt and lived.

With my new poetry book, I Can’t Go Back to Sleep, I do just this! I write poems that express feelings I have had which I’ve not always been able to express; I write poems that clothe life experiences which, not only bear great significance to me, but mirror experiences of others too (yes, this includes you, my very kind reader). Lastly, in this book, I attempt to lend words to others, to help express the never-ending range of feelings, experiences and moments that we encounter in life. I Can’t Go Back to Sleep is for everyone with words they never could express. If you’re reading and feeling a sense of resonance in these words, I invite you to get yourself a copy of my book! 

I Can’t Go back to Sleep is out on Amazon! I hope you find the book enriching!

A photo from my book launch
A photo from my book launch
A photo from my book launch
A photo from my book launch
A photo from my book launch
A photo from my book launch
A photo from my book launch
A photo from my book launch
A photo from my book launch
A photo from my book launch
A photo from my book launch
A photo from my book launch
A photo from my book launch
A photo from my book launch
A photo from my book launch
A photo from my book launch
A photo from my book launch
A photo from my book launch
A photo from my book launch
A photo from my book launch

Seeing Indaboski Live – An Unexpected Reflection 

Myself, on my way to Indaboski’s event

On 13 April 2024, I embarked on a trip to London, not for reflective purposes (based on my understanding at the time), but for the sake of entertainment. I went to see Chukwuemeka Cyril Ohanaemere, popularly known as Odumeje or Indaboski. Odumeje is a popular Nigerian religious figure and music artiste. He is regarded as controversial by some Nigerians and seen as entertaining by most (I believe). I am among the group of Nigerians who find him entertaining – highly entertaining, in fact! The purpose of this post is not to discuss his theology or ministry practise, but to share an unexpected personal reflection I left his event with.

I knew before 13 April that I thought of him as more than a mere entertainer. I knew there was something more interesting to him, an example being his ability to command strong attention from others. I don’t think most people have this ability, so, this factor alone distinguishes him from most people. What I was yet to discover, perhaps because I was yet to see him in-person, was his overall presentation. Not only does Indaboski have an ability to command strong attention from others, he makes for a very compelling person too! What do I mean by this? Let’s explore together as I too try to make sense of my thoughts.

I happened to meet a fellow Nigerian (by the name of Dr Kachi) at the event whom I befriended. We both arrived at the event early and had to wait a few hours until Indaboski was on stage. During this waiting period, we engaged each other in conversations. Dr Kachi spoke insistently about what I would later see for myself, which was that some people simply command a strong presence, and we (onlookers) see and feel this presence but lack words to sufficiently describe it. This strong presence causes us to react and respond, almost helplessly, with strong emotions, positive or negative ones. This is very interesting and is the first reason I believe Indaboski is very compelling. He first and foremost possesses this superpower!

Dr Kachi and myself

Additionally, he possesses such strong, invasive and intrusive confidence; this is the point I will explore for the remainder of this post. I noticed this confidence immediately I saw him and have been trying to understand better, why I found it so striking and why it matters much to me. Dr Kachi was at the end of my immediate reflections, as I was with him at the event. I shared with Dr Kachi at the end of the event that I thought it was very refreshing to see someone from where we’re from, so confident in their skin, so confident in their Nigerianness. What I meant, firstly, was that Indaboski didn’t fake his accent to appear more ‘Western’ which some of us (Nigerians, and by extension, Africans) feel or have felt the need to do (especially while in the West). Instead, he evidently embraced his accent and Igbo language, and articulated himself very confidently. This felt revolutionary to witness in-person.

Secondly, and more importantly, his confidence evidenced self-acceptance. Indaboski is considered by many to be ‘uneducated’ because of grammatical errors he makes while speaking English. Though English clearly isn’t his first language, too many of us Nigerians and Africans seem to ignore this fact! It appears the burden to speak grammatically correct English is carried more extremely by us, rather than English natives. That, in my opinion, is indicative of a lack of self-acceptance on our part. Indaboski, despite his supposed lack of ‘education’ seemed to possess something that many of us supposedly more ‘educated’ people simply don’t have! I would argue that self-acceptance is a product of education; I, a seemingly ‘highly educated’ person, saw Indaboski’s self-acceptance and said to myself, “I want some of that!” I thought this was worth highlighting and thinking about. 

A screenshot from my video recording of Indaboski on stage

My observation and continuous thought led to a fruitful conversation between my therapist and myself. He helped me see a key difference between my self-perception and Indaboski’s. For Indaboski, he makes mistakes and says, “that’s okay, it doesn’t have to be reflective of how I see myself.” For old Emmanuel, I made mistakes and said, “no, that’s not okay! I am simply not good, respectable or competent enough.” It makes a world of difference which you believe and say to yourself. 

In hindsight, I realise I found these qualities in Indaboski so striking, because they helped me realise I can be more accepting and confident in who I am.

On Victory

I really enjoyed presenting (or performing?) my poem, as part of the short film, On Victory, by Coventry Elim Church. I don’t have much experience of reading my poems in front of a live audience, so this felt experimental, fresh and exciting. Check out the film below!

Letter to Self VII

Dear Emmanuel,

It is my absolute pleasure to write what is my last letter to you, at least in the Letters to Self series. I think it is most appropriate, firstly, to acknowledge the significance of these letters to self. Why have I been writing letters to myself since 2014? The main reason is to mark the present point in time. Time passes and so many things happen. There is an abundance of meaning that is left unrecognised when we ignore or fail to note what is happening around us, what reoccurring thoughts we are having, what lessons we are learning. Time is always in motion and is not waiting for those slow to respond. Through these letters, I have documented my reoccurring thoughts and lessons. These documentations are invaluable for future reflection, though I will not be able to remember all that was once lived or relive the emotions of the moment, I will have these letters to read again. In this letter, I address the 19-year-old Emmanuel from the first letter to self.

(Photograph of 19-year-old Emmanuel in May 2014)

I ponder on what you said in your first letter in 2014, to persevere and never give up on your dreams and aspirations because they are attainable. How right you were! I wish to hug and tell you 19-year-old Emmanuel from May 2014 that you persevered and achieved those dreams you imagined. You also very touchingly urged me to be proud of my identity and never to give up on it. These are words I intend to hold dear to my heart always. I intend to always be proud of my identity, of where I have come from and never to give up on my identity.

The remainder of your letters to self have focused on your higher educational journey, as you discuss choosing media production as an area of specialism, encountering research and seeing it change your outlook on life, embracing research wholeheartedly via the decision to undertake a PhD, making To Grow a Tree as part of your research journey, and experiencing feelings of crisis in your PhD experience because of political events in Nigeria. With this letter, I conclude this journey and tell you the journey was worthwhile. You achieved what you wanted!

You went into higher education wanting to study Media because you saw in it an opportunity to express yourself. You saw its potential to reach people with meaning, in a heartfelt, personal and creative way. You wanted to explore something ultimately meaningful and share it with a wide audience of people who would engage irrespective of where they come from. So, though your PhD was in education, you made a documentary-film as part of it, to remain true to your reason for going to university. You did that PhD and completed it and made that film and screened it!

The screening was a fulfilment of the dreams and aspirations you talk about in your first letter. The ideas of identity and belonging that you realised, developed into the focus of your PhD. Being so far from home at a young age, it felt like a struggle to understand who you were and where you belonged, and what you were to do with the fact that you were in a very different society to where you came from, at 19 years old at the time of your letter! But I wish to hug you again and tell you it finally made sense. The experience of being far from home is very deep and heavy to bear. You were also not alone with this feeling. Through your work, you have made sense of this far from home experience and helped people process similar feelings. You have made a difference! Your walk has not been in vain.

Well, I guess this is it. It is providential that my last letter to self is also the seventh in the series. Seven is the biblical number of fullness or completeness. There is a future ahead and in response, I look to God for sustenance. Because God knows the future, I am confident, content and at peace trusting him.

Blessings,

Emmanuel

Memories

Photo of Emmanuel Johnson, photographed by Ethan Shi
Memories screech in circles,
Memories lived, memories not lived.
For memories not lived 
I see a beauty of what could be,
I behold a promise not made.
Memories lived and felt remain
Deep in the heart with outpourings of affection.
These affections offer a promise not made
Of memories not lived.
As the downpour ensues
I hold onto both memories.
As the billows intensify 
I hold on tightly with all my strength.

Auto

Photo of Emmanuel Johnson, photographed by Justin Jamgbadi
Auto-walking.
Layers concealed, hidden within.
A walk embarked,
control lost in-between.
Auto-running.
Stomps to ground, impact unfelt.
The chest tightens,
climactic finale, panting ensues.
Auto-flying.
Back on cushion, breath set loose.
A moment of rest,
grips let loose, sensitivity heightens.

The Word

Portrait of Saint Augustine of Hippo receiving the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, by Philippe de Champaigne, 17th century
I look to you.
I look to you.
I look to you.

My words rise and fall,
pressured by weights too heavy.

When words fail
I look to you.
Let your word carry what I can't.

Your word pierces soul and spirit,
judging thoughts of the heart.
My words rise and fall.
Let your word carry what I can't.

Your word is alive and active,
turning darkness to light.
Your word is alive and active,
creating things not yet seen.

Wandering Heart

Conversion of Saint Augustine, Fra Angelico, 1430
O wandering heart of mine,
I trace your tracks up this hill
but I do not see where you go.
Day and night you wander,
paying little heed to burnout.
Across all entrances and exits
you dash simultaneously,
drifting unreservedly.
I trace your movements 
but only find traces 
of questions you leave behind.
I cannot understand your tracks,
they are unimaginably complex.
I cannot number your steers,
they are infinite in number.
You disperse in prideful splendour
to flounder in collective shatter.
Your pride-filled ways mislead,
moving but going nowhere precise.
Your words are multi-minded,
yet you push to enforce your will.
You wail with outbursts of desire,
yet, en route your solo dash, 
you desire nothing ultimately meaningful.