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.
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