Posted in Dear diary, Injustice


Stop! Stop!! Stop!!!
Na the shout wey wake me from sleep be that
I shaperly jump out of bed to see wetin dey cause kasala
Na in I see one bros wey dey don trowe rope for in neck, ah!
“Beat am! Beat am! Hit am with Bat!”
Wetin in do, wetin shele?
Na the question wey me I just dey ask
Na in dem con tok say in steal pant
Fresh bros like this dey do ritual chai!
Sharperly sharperly I go line go check my g-string

Help! Help!! Help!!!
Na the only sound wey comot my mouth be that
Wahala don shele o! Wayo don gas!! Kasala don burst!!!
Abegi hold the broda
I no find my pant o
I don give the bros 6 slaps
In mouth don big, in no fit answer my question
“Amaka I don pack your pant for una”, my friend yern me
My bodi con come down
Na so my brain settle
Security people you are free to take him away
I don see am


Posted in My Love Story


*BOY*: I saw you just the other day
Like a bright sunny day
As the dew fell in the month of may
I fell in love and I don’t know how to say

*Girl*: I always walked alone
Not I am a gnome
But because I always believed the right person would meet me and make me his own
I know as time goes on, I will never walk alone

*Boy*: You alone are like a flock of angels
Seeing you makes me short of words
So take this yam and plantains
Which I have brought from my village which has many names

*Girl*: Oh thank you dear
You have always been there for me like someone so dear
My heart beats loud for you and so I dare
I dared myself to prepare the best delicacy for you alone I care
This rice and egusi from my hands I bare

*Boy*: Oh she loves me so much
Let me make the move as it is time to rush
The food from my village did the trick as she even tells me when she is in pain
My trusted “agbo” will break her sorrows made of chain


Posted in Dear diary, My Love Story

1+1=0 (One plus One is equal to Zero)


Mum always asked, “Iyawo nko?”

And I’ll weirdly reply, “God had not yet provided”

Dad always asked and smiled, “Is it your girlfriend you are talking to on the phone?”

And I’ll weirdly reply, “No ooo, just my friend”

Now that God has provided, all I want to do is run

Mum always said, “Bring a fine girl home ooo”

And I’ll smile to myself and say, “Who wants to marry an ugly girl because I’m not ugly myself?”

Dad always said, “Be careful of women out there” And I’ll smile to myself and say, “I’m taking my time so as get the best person for me”

Now that God has provided all I want to do is run

I thought and listed the qualities I wanted from my girl, “beautiful, dark skinned, blessed, caring, loving, wonderful mother and a home keeper”

I smiled and thought, “nothing could ever go wrong with this kind of woman”

Now that God as provided, all I want to do is run

I saw the girl of my dreams and evaluated my options, “I was expecting dark skinned but she is light”

“Nothing could probably go bad”, I said and thought my choice was right

“Some other qualities are missing”, I had to make a choice because Valentine was this night

I said yes anyways and make the move like a dashing knight

Now that God has provided, all I want to do is run

It felt sweet at first

And my One was added to hers

Now those qualities that were missing hunt me

I can’t proudly go home and tell mum, “This is my Iyawo”

I can’t go home and smile to dad saying, “she is on the phone, talk to her”

Now I run because we are not compatible

My One and her One could not yield many blessings, just pain

My One is my heart and it hurts

Not that God has provided all I can do is hope for better


Sanyaolu Olubunmi (Mcbumnik)

Posted in Dear diary, Inspirational


Right from our mother’s womb
We had no much of a choice
Either been born male or female
We had no much of a choice
Coming out leg first or head first
We had no much of a choice
Being born into a Christian, Muslim or Indigenous home
We had no much of a choice
Born into a rich, poor or average home
We had no much of a choice
Choosing who gets to raise us, either both parents, single parent, a nanny, family member or an orphanage
We had no much of a choice
Sucking from either the left or the right breast
We had no much of a choice
Still sucking either sweet or sour
We had no much of a choice
Being carried either on the back or the front
We had no much of a choice

Till we came of age and started making decisions
We had no much of a choice
But at age, all decisions are ours
A life of crime or good
A life of aiming for success or being contended with failure
A life of giving up or continuous striving for prosperity
We have a chance to chose
What do you get to choose for your life?
Its a new year, choose wisely.

Diary of a young poet wishes you HAPPY NEW YEAR
Sanyaolu Olubunmi (Mcbumnik)

Posted in Dear diary, Injustice, My Life

Painful Africans Ideology on Men’s Emotion

They say a man should work until the day he dies
Living each second with either joy or hate until he passes
From his first breath to his very last
He keeps toiling until his life collapse

When is a man never bad?
Bad son when he does what he is passionate about and discards his parent’s
Bad friend when he avoids them and stay at home without hanging out
Bad husband when he spends his time with friends
Bad father when he works too much and spends little time at home

All he needs is a helper suitable for him
Not a leach fixated to the side of his neck
Extracting not just his life but his income

Africans, why can’t he help his wife with chores, without you saying he is a weak man?
Why can’t he wash his wife’s cloths without you saying he is jazzed?
If he gives a woman a ride from work
He is a Casanova
If he doesn’t
He is not a gentle man

The easiest way to a man’s heart is love
“Once he loves, he becomes a mindless zombie”
“He should be strong”
“A weak man can’t lead a family”
Or so they say
When does a man in love become a weakling?
This saying has driven men to hate
So as to be strong for the society

How would you say you can never please a man without even trying?
Make him happy and you have the key to his heart
Make him sad and you open the door to exploration
Man has emotions and also feels pain but he is just perfect at hiding, all for the sake of being strong.

Posted in Dear diary, Inspirational, My Life


She is born just like every other being
Little, soft, gentle and pure
With no clue what life entails and means
All she does was cry and giggle until she came of age

Age does not mean number of years
But a stage in life where knowledge of life is attained
She is of age unlike many of her counterparts
Who just still see life the same way
Not for its capturing but as a game
Unlike others, she makes the world her personal playhouse
She constructs and enlarges it as part of her personal achievement

She is a rare combination
Hair made of silk
Eyes made of ruby
Heart made of gold
Skin pure as snow

She is a rare combination
Gentle and strong
Kind and brutal
Soft and stony

She enlarges her coast
As she provides for her family and nation
Relinquishing her strength and struggling with emotion

She faces a lot
Struggling from all corners
Facing all sort of trauma
And still standing out strong

The woman with a plan survives all odds
Finishes strong
And attains victory in her endeavors
Nobody is perfect
But a Woman with a plan is a perfect kind of woman and a joy to her generation

Dedicated to all women who have a passion for success and seeing to it that they make impact and change in their generation.

#Share the truth

Sanyaolu Olubunmi (Mcbumnik)

Posted in Dear diary, My Life


There was a time when my movement was limited
And I had to be moved painfully from the areas I have polluted

I grew and all of a sudden my knees grew strength
And I had to move playfully by crawling though stressed

Further life smiled at me
And just one morning I tried to lift myself up by all means

I failed as I fell back on the ground with little gain
But a sweet experience I has so I tried again

One day, after series of falling
I stood and my life knew no crawling

I walked, ran and I danced
And gradually I was free from a life that I believed was canned

So many years went
And I grew tired of the same system yet

I went on an excursion and traveled by train
And I woke up the next day as if my head was sprained

I was glad my life made a change
And cheerfully I went back to my old way with no rage

A year passed and I traveled by boat
And I was scared of the ocean I almost made a wrong vote

Another one passed and I learnt how to drive
At first it was fun until I felt no more pride

I could drive so errands were made easy
Series and series of them I went on until I was dizzy

Now I’m far away from driving any car
And I geared backwards to walking along the bar

With a whispering voice I begged my dad for a car
I hope he reads this and make my life become par

I smile as I keep on walking
As I just appealed to my dad with this writing

Sanyaolu Olubunmi (Mcbumnik)

Posted in Dear diary, Injustice


The present state of the world is disdain

And all that remains is left for those alive to claim

We fight to live another day but in the process we get maim

The world is full of tears but there are still smiles

The war has penetrated our humanity but some still grinds

Tears and war are end games of sweet turn bitter experiences

Libya is overrun with tears

Same as other parts of the world

They live each day with fear

Just like the ant which falls into a gourd

I can’t claim to know what women feel

But I hear their voices and affliction

At the sense of danger they are forced to run on their heels

Because they end up being the spoils of all annihilation

Men are killed

Women are raped

Children are left orphaned

The Elderly are kept sorrowed

The tears have filled the sea

And the war has yielded blood

The ground cries for help

But hell smiles as they journey down to her

Let’s stop the war

Let’s stop the oppression

Let’s stop the flowing of tears

Diary of a young poet

Sanyaolu Olubunmi (Mcbumnik)

Posted in Dear diary, My Love Story


Like every dark night
There are stars that make it beautiful

Like every fossil
Though cold and hard, there are plants or flesh that are soft deep inside

Like every stormy sky
There are lightnings that precedes it

Like my cold stony heart
There is being that makes it soft and warm

Just like the devil
Who was once void of evil
There is a sinner who is in love with a saint.

Sanyaolu Olubunmi (Mcbumnik)

Posted in Dear diary


Now what everyone wants to do is to chant
But I just sit still like a calm fat cat
But deep inside me I run wild like a hungry church rat
Just observing as people all over rant

Who is to blame?
The man that has both hands and legs but refuses to work
Or the man that resorts to begging just because he is lame
Or I who decided to keep quite when I know I have a better opinion but just sit there and croak

Silence is gold
That’s just the lie I heard that kept me from been bold
And my lips sealed tight as if its been moulded
And my soul shy like its been casted

If I refuse to talk, I lose my chance of making the world better
If I refuse to talk, I increase my chances of being dumb and would not matter

I lie under the Lord’s tent
And I make my words my strength
Its no crime to be silent
But there is a greater chance of making the world better if I gather my courage and breath
And I speak to the world and make my strength felt.

Diary of a young poet
Sanyaolu Olubunmi