Nwaogo Theresa Aroh’s poem: Crimson Fortnight


It’s the crimson red every fortnight,

it comes in gruesome style.


Massive pits dug for mass disposal,

then they are all gone,

amid tears and fear.


Do we call it by its name?

Fear won’t let us.


Nowhere is safe,

not because we can't outrun the shadows

or the sharp edges they carry,


but because they are everywhere,

different names, all the same evil:

terrorists, bandits, militants, ritualists,

masquerading in shaded faces.


We thought the state would help.

We mocked our predicament; they lost hope,

or perhaps they didn’t—out of boredom,

they have kick-started their own theatre

of interesting war times.


I write in words you won’t understand,

in metaphors where horrors ride

through dangerous times.


I fear being one among

the massive pits dug for mass disposal.


Nwaogo Theresa Aroh is a Nigerian writer and poet based in Lagos. She holds a BA in English and writes poetry and short prose exploring themes of identity, memory, and contemporary social realities. Her work has appeared in literary spaces, and she continues to write across genres, including poetry, flash fiction, and personal essays.

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