Chuka Nnanna Okeke was born and raised in Oko,Anambra state,Nigeria. He had his earlier studies in his country home before proceeding to Nigeria's first university and one of its best citadels of learning, the University of Ibadan. His reputation is acknowledged on a national and international basis,and there are a considerable number of poems and intellectual articles written by him in the History Press Organization,University of Ibadan,Nigeria where he served as the Editor-in- Chief. Chuka Okeke is an analyst on municipal issues,politics and comparative relations.He was the Press Liaison Officer in the international conference on "Globalization:Migration,Citizenship and Identity"organized by the duo of Kenesaw State University Georgia and University of Ibadan,which held from 6th to 9th November,2007. He is member of Anti-Slavery International, London, Union of Campus Journalists, Nigeria and other numerous professional associations ,all geared towards enhancing his creative prowess and finesse. While in the university,Okeke was exposed to the doctrines of Marxism,which has positively influenced the lives of an overwhelming 21st century young beholders. His philosophy about life is" the better a man breaths, the better he survives" As a quiet radical,he hopes to bring social change in his country,Nigeria in the nearest future.
THE HELLISH PASSAGE Where are we going the beleaguered beings bemoaned torn out like bees and birds where ostrich plume plays the pawn Where are we going in the mist of horrow and hell-hole gaunt chains and the vertical troop were born of Siamese and toilling all around the hostile path Where are we going muzzling and muscling away until the threshold of a virgin land but still shrouded in mist Oh! where are we going deft appeals on deaf ears the songs of yester-years we sing today in a tearful joy THE DRAMA IN NIGER DELTA Drop the arm you pathfinders of bloodbath dread the incognito harm and seek the peace of calm Here, hoi-polloi bath in flames yet, busy like a bee worker they covet oil wealth by force gush it with great gusto but bellowed in the "boom" to their appointed path What a pity it portrays? kleptocracy rules and ruins as harbinger of hurly-burly haven't my eyes seen my ears? or,is it not the arm of chief-tormentors those whose delicacies pass for theatrics yes, unfulfilled theatrics the whys for the whirl How time flies above the skies? from chief-servants to masters now, I see the waning wind of yesterdays yes, the wind of hay-days when altruism thrust the style now, the masters shine no more as stars
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