The blogger ibikunle Abraham laniyan authors sonnets or sonnet-like poems about Nigerian cities.
Lagos
The Ancient City: Built of River and Clay
From silt and sun, the first great walls arose,
Where rivers curved to kiss the thirsty land.
The seed was cast where fertile water flows,
And mud was pressed by many a calloused hand.
No more the wanderer’s trail, the shifting tent,
But granaries to hold the golden yield;
In brick and lime, the human will was bent
To fence the wild and tame the open field.
A marketplace became the beating heart,
Where strangers traded spice and silver tongue,
And laws were carved to set the tribes apart,
While high in stone, the temple bells were rung.
Beneath the dust of ages, silent, deep,
The bones of cities in the cradle sleep.
The Modern City: Of Steel and Circuitry
The forge ignited with a dragon’s breath,
To cast the beam and weld the iron spine.
We cheated space and defied sudden death,
With towers rising in a glass design.
No longer bound by season or by light,
The neon pulse erases stars above;
The hum of wires vibrates through the night,
As engines race and metal gears shove.
A million minds in concrete canyons drift,
Connected by a thread of unseen code;
The ancient mud is buried in the shift
Toward the high and digital abode.
A titan born of fire, steam, and glare,
Whose soaring shadow breathes the city air.
Part I: 25 Sonnets of Ancient Nigerian Cities
Image of Ife
Ife
City in Nigeria
Ile-Ife: The First Footfall
Where Oduduwa stepped upon the clay,
And cast the earth upon the endless deep;
The gods descended in a golden ray,
While mortal souls in silence lay asleep.
The cradle of the world began right here,
In forest shadows where the spirit thrives;
Where terra-cotta faces, calm and clear,
Preserved the glory of a thousand lives.
Oh, spiritual heart of all our race,
The Ooni guards the staff of ancient stone;
In every lineament of a bronze-cast face,
A lineage of kings remains well-known.
Before the sun of foreign flags arose,
The Ife spirit found its long repose.
Image of Kano
Kano
City in Nigeria
Kano: The Walls of Dala Hill
The red-mud walls that guard the northern plain,
Rose up from Dala’s peak in days of old;
They sheltered caravans from desert rain,
And merchants trading leather, salt, and gold.
Within the gate, the Kurmi market hums,
A labyrinth of spice and indigo;
The beating of the Hausa royal drums,
Announces what the Emir’s children know.
A thousand years of trade and desert lore,
Are written in the dust of every street;
Where scholars knocked at every open door,
And camels rested on their weary feet.
The walls may crumble under desert sky,
But Kano’s ancient pulse will never die.
Image of Benin City
Benin City
City in Nigeria
Benin City: The Bronze Domain
In Igodomigodo, the Ogiso reigned,
Before the Obas wore the coral crest;
With earthworks deep, the city was sustained,
A forest fortress, greater than the rest.
The guild of brass-smiths poured the molten fire,
To capture wars and triumphs in a plaque;
A courtly art that spoke of high desire,
Looted by those who left no treasure back.
The moats were dug to keep the world at bay,
A marvel of the mind and human hand;
Where ivory tusks in royal chambers lay,
Across the breadth of this green, humid land.
The kingdom fell, but in the molten glow,
The spirit of the Bini continues to grow.
Image of Old Oyo
Old Oyo
City in Nigeria
Oyo-Ile: The Cavalry's Heart
Upon the savanna where the grasses lean,
The Alaafin’s horsemen rode with iron spear;
An empire vast, in robes of royal sheen,
That filled the surrounding tribes with holy fear.
From Old Oyo, the laws of state were cast,
With military grace and strict command;
A golden age that seemed destined to last,
Across the reaches of the Yoruba land.
But civil strife and jihad’s sudden breath,
Reduced the palace walls to silent mound;
The mighty capital met a quiet death,
And left its ruins on the hallowed ground.
Though grass now grows where royal stables stood,
The empire’s name is etched in hardwood.
Nri
In forest glades where Eze Nri ruled by grace,
No iron sword or bloody war was known;
A priest-king’s hand blessed every clan and race,
From a divine and humble earthen throne.
The Yam Spirit was honored in the field,
And taboos kept the tribal balance right;
The land itself would grant a holy yield,
To those who walked within the spiritual light.
Oh, ancient Igbo source of ritual power,
Where bronze was cast in ninth-century fire;
You grew into a quiet, sacred flower,
Above the reach of common greed’s desire.
The oldest peace in all the southern wood,
Where gods and men in gentle tandem stood.
(Sonnets 6–25 continue to explore ancient sites like Igbo-Ukwu, Daura, Katsina, Zaria, Borgu, Ngazargamu, Owo, Ijebu-Ode, Ilesha, Badagry, Lokoja, and the lost ruins of the Nok civilization.)
Part II: 25 Sonnets of Modern Nigerian Cities (2026)
These poems focus on the "Skyline of Hope," the "15-Minute City," and the "Digital Hub."
Abuja: The Planned Dream
Beneath the shadow of the Zuma Rock,
A city rose from maps and careful thought;
Where modern dreams and ancient echoes shock,
And unity from diverse tribes is sought.
The wide avenues stretch toward the light,
Through Maitama’s green and Garki’s hum;
The National Mosque glows through the velvet night,
While church bells call the city’s souls to come.
No longer just a patch of central ground,
But 2026’s heartbeat, clean and wide;
Where political paths and power are found,
And national pride has nowhere left to hide.
A capital that holds the center fast,
To heal the fractures of the troubled past.
Lagos: The Kinetic Ocean
The Third Mainland Bridge is a concrete vein,
That pumps the hustle of a million feet;
In Eko’s heart, there is no fear of rain,
Only the drive to make the day complete.
From Lekki’s glass to Mushin’s vibrant street,
The "Yellow Bus" is king of every road;
Where tech startups and old traditions meet,
And data streams from every high abode.
In 2026, the shoreline’s new and bold,
With Atlantic dreams rising from the sand;
A story of the new and brave, not old,
The commercial anchor of the western land.
The city never sleeps, it only thrives,
Within the fire of twenty million lives.
Port Harcourt: The Garden’s New Bloom
The Garden City wears a coat of oil,
And lush green parks beside the river’s edge;
Where men extract the riches of the soil,
And keep the nation’s economic pledge.
But in the streets where "bole" smoke is sweet,
A newer industry begins to rise;
Where digital artists and the poets meet,
With southern fire burning in their eyes.
The 15-minute city’s plan takes hold,
Connecting creeks with bridges made of light;
A future that is bright and brave and bold,
To drive away the shadows of the night.
From refinery flares to the software hub,
The city finds its pulse in every club.
Ibadan: The Brown-Roofed Modernity
The "city of a thousand brown-zinc roofs",
Has traded slow-time for a faster pace;
The railway tracks provide the iron proofs,
That modern transport finds its proper place.
From Cocoa House to malls of gleaming stone,
The old University still stands with pride;
Where seeds of intellectual thought were sown,
And history and the future now reside.
The sprawling hills are mapped with fiber lines,
Connecting ancient clans to global trade;
While Agodi’s green and quiet beauty shines,
Within the progress that the years have made.
A giant waking from a storied sleep,
With modern promises it means to keep.
Enugu: The Coal City’s Light
The red hills hold the ghost of blackened coal,
But Enugu has found a cleaner flame;
A peaceful spirit and a steady soul,
That gives the "Coal City" a brighter name.
From Independence Layout’s quiet street,
To markets where the Igbo spirit yells;
The modern and the traditional often meet,
Beneath the chime of Sunday morning bells.
A center for the film and music trade,
Where Nollywood was born in forest shade;
With tech parks where the future’s plans are laid,
And economic debts are slowly paid.
The hills remain, but now they watch a town,
That wears a digital and silver crown.
(Sonnets 6–25 continue to celebrate cities like Uyo, Calabar, Jos, Asaba, Gombe, Yenagoa, Abeokuta, Minna, Lafia, Bauchi, Makurdi, Owerri, Warri, Akure, and Onitsha.)
Part I: The Ancient Cities
Igbo-Ukwu: The Bronze Artisan
Before the forest grew so thick and tall,
A master smith sat by the glowing fire;
He heard the metal’s soft and molten call,
To forge a vessel for a priest’s desire.
With intricate design of rope and fly,
He cast a bowl that time could not erase;
Beneath the earth it waited, dark and dry,
To show the modern world an ancient face.
No crude or simple tool was used of old,
But secrets of the lost-wax art were known;
A story written not in script or gold,
But in the green-tinged bronze and polished stone.
A silent witness to a culture’s pride,
Where art and spirit traveled side by side.
Zaria (Zazzau): The Queen’s Command
In Zazzau’s plains where indigo is deep,
Queen Amina rode with thunder in her stride;
She woke the northern spirits from their sleep,
And spread her kingdom’s borders far and wide.
She built the walls that bear her royal name,
To shield the traveler and the market stall;
A woman’s hand ignited history’s flame,
And made the neighboring chieftains stand and fall.
The kola nut and leather crossed her gate,
As caravans from distant lands drew near;
She mastered war and steered the ship of state,
With heart of iron and a soul of cheer.
The red-clay towers still remember well,
The tales that only Zaria’s winds can tell.
Badagry: The Door of No Return
Upon the shore where salt and sorrow meet,
The ancient palms lean toward the crashing wave;
The sand was trodden by a million feet,
From forest prince to the forgotten slave.
The "Point of No Return" still marks the sand,
Where ships of wood took human freight away;
A dark and heavy shadow on the land,
That lingers in the humid air today.
Yet here the first great mission bells were rung,
And words of foreign scripture first took root;
A dual history on a silver tongue,
The bitter harvest and the sacred fruit.
The Agia tree has fallen to the floor,
But memories guard the spirit’s heavy door.
Katsina: The Scholar’s Minaret
The Gobarau Minaret reaches for the sky,
A mud-brick finger pointing toward the grace;
Where ancient scholars came to live and die,
And seek the wisdom of the human race.
Before the book was common in the south,
Katsina was the light of northern thought;
Where proverbs lived in every teacher’s mouth,
And holy truths were diligently sought.
The desert wind blows through the open yard,
Where students sat to chant the sacred verse;
With faith and logic as their inner guard,
Against the chaos of the universe.
A city of the mind, both old and wise,
Underneath the vast and open Sahel skies.
Old Oyo: The Alaafin’s Ghost
Where granite boulders break the rolling green,
The silent ruins of the palace lie;
The greatest power that the west had seen,
Underneath the Oyo-Ile sky.
The Gbonka and the Timi fought their duels,
While Sango’s lightning shook the very ground;
The empire flourished under ancient rules,
Until the Fulani drums began to sound.
The horses died, the thatch was set to flame,
The people fled to found the town anew;
But nothing ever carried quite the name,
Of where the original empire’s power grew.
Now only lizards sun upon the stone,
Where once the King sat on his ivory throne.
Daura: The Well of the Snake
At Kusugu, the ancient well remains,
Where Bayajidda slew the serpent’s head;
To break the drought and end the people’s pains,
And earn the queenly hand in royal bed.
From seven sons the Hausa states were born,
Each with a task to guard the northern soil;
To plant the cotton and to grind the corn,
And prosper through their dedicated toil.
The legend lives in every brick and bone,
A mythic start for all the city-states;
Where bravery was carved in desert stone,
And destiny swung wide the city gates.
The mother-well still offers water cool,
To those who live by Daura’s ancient rule.
Ijebu-Ode: The Sungbo’s Eredo
A forest wall, a trench of deep design,
Was dug by thousands in the sun and rain;
To mark a mighty woman’s border line,
And guard the secrets of the coastal plain.
Sungbo’s Eredo, miles of earth and depth,
A feat of engineering long ago;
Where ancient sentries quiet watches kept,
And watched the kingdom’s riches start to grow.
The soil is red, the canopy is high,
The moss has covered every earthen mound;
But glory does not simply fade and die,
It waits within the hollows of the ground.
A monument to wealth and female will,
That keeps the forest spirits dreaming still.
Bida: The Glass and Brass
The Masaga craftsmen sit in circles round,
To breathe the fire into molten glass;
Where ancient techniques are forever found,
And handed down as changing seasons pass.
In Bida’s heart, the Nupe spirit glows,
In shining brass and beads of vibrant red;
A river of creative genius flows,
Through fingers that the ancestors have led.
The Etsu Nupe reigns in quiet state,
While anvils ring throughout the busy day;
No modern machine can replicate,
The beauty made in this traditional way.
A city forged in heat and patient skill,
That keeps the ancient crafts a living will.
Lokoja: The Meeting of the Waters
Where Benue meets the Niger’s mighty flow,
The waters marry in a churning swirl;
And ancient tribes watched the river grow,
Into the liquid heart of all the world.
The iron-crested hills look down below,
Where Lugard’s shadow first began to fall;
But long before the colonial winds did blow,
The river called a message to them all.
A crossroads for the canoe and the soul,
Where northern grain met southern forest fruit;
The waters kept the fractured regions whole,
And gave the rising nation its first root.
The confluence remains a sacred sight,
Where two great spirits join in silver light.
Abeokuta: The Under-Stone Refuge
The Egba fled the fire of the war,
To find a sanctuary in the rock;
Olumo’s shadow was the open door,
That shielded them from every sudden shock.
They built their homes beneath the granite eaves,
And carved a city from the mountain side;
Where every heart in liberty believes,
And ancient gods in rocky clefts reside.
From Lisabi’s brave strength the city grew,
A fortress town of pepper and of cloth;
Where every citizen the secret knew:
That unity is stronger than the moth.
The "Refuge in the Rocks" still stands today,
To watch the modern world pass on its way.
(Sonnets 16–25 continue to explore the hidden histories of Owo, Keffi, Idah, Ngazargamu, Arochukwu, Iseyin, Kano’s Indigo Pits, The Nok Terracotta sites, Gwandu, and the Sokoto Caliphate’s early seats.)
To finish the journey from the ancient foundations to the 2026 urban pulse, here are the remaining sonnets for the Ancient Cities, followed by the continuation of the Modern Cities reflecting the landscape of 2026.
Part I: The Ancient Cities (Final Sequence)
Owo: The Meeting of the Arts
Between the Ife bronze and Bini height,
The city of Owo carved its middle way;
In ivory tusks as pale as winter light,
And terracotta baked in ancient clay.
The Olowo’s palace, vast in timbered grace,
Held courtyards where the forest spirits danced;
A crossroads for the Yoruba’s noble race,
Where every traveler felt his soul enhanced.
The art of wood and earth was woven here,
In patterns that the modern eye still seeks;
A heritage that’s held both deep and dear,
Of which the silent, carved mahogany speaks.
Ngazargamu: The Empire of the Sand
In Borno’s wastes, the brick-built city stood,
A capital of the Mai’s desert reign;
It lacked the forest’s wealth of stone and wood,
But ruled the vastness of the Sahel plain.
A center for the Quran’s holy word,
Where thousand-camel trains would find their rest;
The scholar’s ink was sharper than the sword,
In this, the golden kingdom of the West.
Though dust has buried every palace floor,
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