Anas Dansalma's Blog

Every day I wake up, I find more reasons to keep trying towards fulfilling my dream. I feel the touch of God tapping my rickety shoulders as if telling me to calm down, and "take your time." I feel that God is more empathetic in that, wishing to grant every prayer I make, even though waiting for the best of all moments. This is the real touch that shakes the balls of my eyes to tears, remembering how overburdened the needs on my shoulder - mother, wife, child, relatives and the entire humanity - making me more effortful and wanting to work hard. Each moment humbles me, for no matter how I try, there shall always be those above me, and below me are others dying to be like me. What more lessons are beyond this simple fact that most can't see. It is my prayer that life grants me this wish - humility and to remain a "courteous spectator" - as a friend described me - to all events neither harming nor being harmed. ©Anas Dansalma       31st March, 2024

HER EYES IS A HEAVEN Eyes is the heaven of a woman For they speak what lips can't say. She has two round sparkling eyes Her sclera reminds me of heaven And the hue coloured circle poses Like the bulb of an iris flower blown By the breeze of an utter amazement Which makes her smart lens stretch Casting their looks on me like spells While her steep arched eyebrows Will widen the two stars sparkling Making me crazier than I ever thought To quickly react with elation.. Yes, I have seen her, Bilkisu I would reply God with gratitude For letting me see how paradise Which I always pray for looks like. Penned by; (c)Anas Ɗansalma 1st August, 2020. For you as my barka da Sallah, the moon of my heart.

The touch of your love Upon my harden heart Is like the touch of God Upon an unbeliever's heart When no one is expecting him To believe in the sanctity of your grace That I believe you're the most grandeur That have ever existed to me And much more worthy of my worship. Just know Bilkisu, Your heart will be a temple Where I shall always bow in devotion And with each day I will grow piety That you yourself will have to reward me With the paradise buried in your heart.

Dear my death angel, Where have you been?               Come as much closer to me As you have always wanted to be. Dear my death angel, Don't you hear me groaning              For my loudest bleeding wounds Which are the story of misfortune? Dear my death angel, Don't you know I'm a wounded prey                Hunted by avaricious canines Who want to rip my flesh apart? Dear my death angel, Come to the North where I live                Forsake me not to the demons Whose bullets are more ruthless than you. Dear my death angel, My house is now a pool of blood                Brimming over my tattred head Filled with the fear of my marauders. Dear my death angel, Night is day and day is night                To me that I could see them ...

Daam! Daam! Daam! It breaks, The sound of a broken thunder. Never do I ever heard of it before, But, now it’s the pulsation of my heartbeat. The thunder through the calm atmosphere, Came it as dark as Satan’s spiteful heart. Ratatatatah! Tastastastas! Ratatatatah! The sound of a heavy gun! The North is now a tatted garden asunder, Kidnapped I am day and night for ransom, That I've turned fountain for the vampires. Paralyzed we are with broken thunder, Driving us to untimely early graves, In numbers weakening our hands to bear. Ratatatatah! Tastastastas! Ratatatatah!                 The sound of a heavy gun! Fathers weep for their lovely pregnant wives, Mothers weeping for their innocent children, While children yell at corpses of their parents Everyone jittery and everywhere condolences, Which throw its stinging throes in our hearts As love kept reincarnating their bodily mirages Daam! Daam! Daam! It breaks, T...

I have seen humans Superb in theology and critique That when they speak of God The heaven bows at their words And from their holy lips drift A stream of ceaseless truth Their brains are loaded with verses Whose rendition they alter to advocate What their whims best desire to achieve That which sounds music to their listeners While reading God in their feeble hands Losing the core notion of their deen Deen is sincerity in monotheism Believing His scripture pragmatically Loving His massagers boundlessly To obey their Islamic leaders compliantly Where orders meet objective righteously When the common folk live fraternally Sincerity reminds me of Salmanul Farisi Of noble birth and unquantifiable love Who roamed from freedom to slavery Who penetrate the shadows of darkness to light  Whose instinctive sincerity led him far distant Land of Mecca to quench his thirty for utter truth      This is sincerity of faith

KATSINA PEOPLE ARE DYING When you look at Katsina You will see how woe is befalling Like a thunderstorm razing homes  Instilling deep muted resounding terror Like a lion devouring every single peace. When you look at Katsina Death is no longer a shy abstract shadow For day and night it chases every soul Women, children and few men fleeing Littering every inch with a bloody corpse When you look at Katsina They've forgotten COVID-19 or NCDC update They're not asking for the fake palliatives They're only asking for a security taskforce They're only demanding the chance to live. When you look at Katsina You will see reincarnation of Sambisa You  will see negligence of governments You will see Mr. President's home town Bowing before the indecent marauders.  Ya Allah help Katsina people. Penned by; (c) Anas Ɗansalma. 16th May, 2020.

If ever I could live as a gardener who grow flowers, Roses; red as blood in us that defines our pedigree, With radiant buds dancing in the breeze, I will be a demi-love God, giving them wings, Amusing them with childhood stories, How mother will bathe me in the morning, Yet before noon dusty and at night fast asleep, I will tell them how much softer were your lips, Softer than a lover’s heart who kisses their round buds, At the sight of their damsel's smiling face, I will remind them how patiently I nursed them up, Watering, protecting an' feeding them with love, I will tell them my mom did more than that, So much that they’ll be gripped tight by your awe, Like a nerdy boyfriend’s first date flower grip, So firm that their urge to fly in search  of you is unbearable, I'll inspire them as tireless as you used to be, To fly higher and travel to your abode, They shall like drizzle fall on your rooftop, And like I always did jump and run to hug you, Remembe...

Please, open your arms Which between them I see A wide heaven’s gate That quenches a rover’s thirst to trail   Please, open your arms Which know not of my forlorness  But being the witnesses to my crave  Buried in my long journey to your heart  Please, open your arms For me to bow vor before your grace  That I shall not give thee all golds   But I shall make thee a glittering gold Please, open your arms And make them be two perches I shall not only roost as wanderers do But shall live forever in your comfort. Please, open your arms Which will not only caress my pain But its warmth shall bed-pet me To sleep, making me melt in your love Please, open your arms And your face will be my mirror Which like a devotion i'll stare at And see words that you couldn't utter Please, open your arms Which in them I shall feel no fear Of missing or losing you not to death Which shall be so scared to come close Please, open your ar...

I couldn’t believe I was dying slowly, Because a soul with no love is an epistle; A well written bombastic letter to nobody, A muse caged in the cul-de-sac of an inkless pen, Or a noisy bike accelerated with motionless tyres, Until that moment I met you, When I felt touched, caressed and reborn again, Realizing you’re the cure of my untimely death. By simple description of my queen, She is the filament of my eyes, Whose presence evoke light in them, And take away the blindness of my longing, Far more than NEPA instill thrill. She’s the heaven’s emblem, The stars and moon are her reflection, And that bluish tinge on the cloud, While her smile to my heart is a drop of dew, Energizing the petals of my heart. You are my would-be bride The last and only that i wish.

I call her Miss Lady Rainbow, She was colorfully dressed like a rainbow, Whose hill shoes I watched dancing to her footsteps, On that tarmac that was lonely and turned black, As she sighed of the chill in the rain, That zephyr enliven the shrub across the road, Seeming to rejoice the tune; dancing as well. Imagine; She raised her head up to the heaven, And smiled as if in a sacred communion, I saw that dark curtain of clouds rolled up, And the heaven showered her with ice pellets, That fell on her like pieces of diamonds, As she walked, no car interrupted the session. Believe me; I had no choice but to be carried away, As she strolled through a wide alley, I saw her bent to the ground by the road, She gave the decrepit old man a Naira note, And swiftly like the air at the tail of veil, She raised up and moved faster than I thought, As I doubled my steps in longer strides, Only to lost her in the dust of my dream.

I gaze at this thing called democracy Lying in the hands of rapists bleeding profusely Who like a gyrating wind engulf her in besiege My eyes clueless and the doctors too helpless Her face bright with smiles, but ashen Her heart full of objectivity, but baffling Her eyes shine with peace, but fuming Her lips laden with bitter truth, but sealed Still her rapists eager to assault again That wretched girl whose birth was fought In 1999 was her favourable worthless delivery The birth of new scary baby democracy Her suitors have taken her in ransom Around her are men of brandishing scythe Mowing the lives of its liberators Lustfully holding tight her thighs I thought how profound is this anarchy I remember how deceitful is Integrity I remember how votes are now thwart I remember the ignorance of our youth sadly I remember the hunger between our teeth painfully I remember the Inconclusive adjournment of judiciary I remember how hope in our breast is thrifty I wonder...