In a nation where the path to success usually seems like walking the Third Mainland Bridge barefoot in the sun’s heat, most Nigerian youths understand the meaning of running after dreams with an empty wallet but a full heart. From ASUU strikes and job rejections to relentless hustle and Japa fantasies, the process can be weary, and the timing can be cruel. But still—we push. Last last, delay no be denial. This poem is in dedication to all those who ever asked themselves, got stuck halfway in life, or doubted if the easy life would be theirs. It is a reminder that waiting does not mean no, and while there is breath, there is still hope to make it in life.
They said to me, "Dream big,"
So I dreamed like the sky had no roof.
I drew castles in the air,
Gave my mama a Lekki house to stay,
Promised my dude, "One day e go sure,"
But years accumulated,
And the promise still dey for outstanding.
NEPA blinked, and hope too.
One moment there's light,
The other, na darkness fill room.
Job hunt became prayer point,
Application letters were testimonies of rejection.
"Come back next week,"
"Your CV is impressive but."
We know the lines. We've danced that dance.
My phone rang:
"Bro, you still dey that your dream matter?"
I laughed, pain for my throat.
Na dream wey no dey pay rent.
But how you go kill wetin dey give you small joy,
Even if na once in six months?
I saw friends japa,
Cross oceans like miracles,
While I dey stuck for CMS bridge,
Counting BRTs and blessings.
I prayed, I cried,
Quick come forty days and forty nights,
But no change.
Nevertheless, I held on.
Not because I strong excel,
But because giving up sef no have gain.
Na who give up dey lose success.
And somewhere in the stillness,
One little door pushed ajar,
Not loud, not flashy,
But enough to slip in a yes
After years of "no."
And when I entered,
I did not walk in bold like hero.
I crept in tired,
With dreams full of dust
And knees battered from prayer.
But I intervened.
Today I can declare,
The journey hard like Third Mainland pothole,
But the destination dey smoother than G-Wagon seat.
Na time dey play games—
Late no be never.
Slow no be stuck.
And silence no be denial.
To all the youths wey dey read am,
Still waiting call back,
Still praying your gift go blow,
Still working magic in small rooms,
I see you.
We dey on the same road,
Sometimes we walk, sometimes we crawl.
But if your feet still move,
Even if inch by inch,
Your dream still valid.
So when road no agree,
You agree for yourself.
When time slow,
You set your own calendar.
When doors close,
You construct window from broken pieces.
And someday,
That little yes come go,
Loud enough to shout on your entire street,
Soft enough to bring you tears.
Then you go look back
And smile at the hurt
That showed you how to climb
Without ladder.
Because dream no dey die
For heart wey still dey beat.
Thanks For Popping in
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5 replies on “‘Last last… Delay no be denial’: A poem of survival”
This is healthy food for the heart
Thank you very much for reading Aishasavvy’s Blog. Your recommendation is appreciated.
Sending you lots of love!
The theme of the poem centre on encouragement, fulfilment and achievement of your dreams. So much interesting
It all starts with the right mindset believing that delay is not denial. Thank you for this craft.
Thank you very much for reading Aishasavvy’s Blog. Your recommendation is appreciated.
Sending you lots of love!