Abụ Oghu Poem by Emeka GOC

Abụ Oghu: The Sacred Poems of Imo

From Amandugba, Umuaka's soil to Njaba's flowing stream,
An ancient wise songs awaken from a timeless dream.
Awo-Omamma, Ekwe, listens, Amiri and Amurie catches the sound,
As Orlu's heavy drumbeats shake the sacred ground.

This is the Abụ Oghu, the sacred psalms of the land,
Passed down like burning embers from an elder's hand.
It is the festival's heartbeat, a seasonal grace,
That echoes through the August wind in every sacred space.

Abụ Oghu is a check mate and moral season
All hushed gossips are laid bare to the public for a reason
When the dice is cast and last last everyone chop breakfast
To slow down and correct weathering moral decadence at fast.

No iron voice is raised in wrath, no fist begins to swing,
For peace demands absolute silence when the spirits sing.
The sacred law is spoken, 'jubilee': let every malice cease,
As families gather close to chant the hymns of communal peace.

The lyrics hold our history, the path our fathers trod,
The migration of the heroes under the watchful eye of God.
It binds the scattered children to the root from which they came,
Breathing life into the dust of an ancestral fame and name.

Yet it acts as a mirror, a sharp and vocal blade,
Where every hidden vice is brought into the light away from shade.
The chants will praise the noble heart, the brave and honest deed,
But lampoon the greedy hands that sow the seeds of greed.

Like Yoruba's fierce Oríkì that stirs the inner soul,
Or modern Afrobeats that makes a broken continent whole,
The Abụ Oghu rises to mend the fractured state,
To guard the community's morals before it is too late.

The heavy drums keep pounding, the vocal cadences rise,
Beneath the heavy canopy of South- Eastern skies.
Before the grand masquerades step out to take their stance,
The poetry has healed the town, and cleared the path to dance.