I have the believe that if we won our nation (as accurately predicted in one of my poems below a few years ago from ‘The Black Christ’s of Africa’), why can’t our ‘Bright (Black) Stars of Africa’ win continental and intercontinental trophies? Yes, we can!

NB:  This poem was picked from a chapter on REFERENDUM that I have written off (declared expired!). Kumbe, I did know no piece of literature gets expired; the older it becomes, the more relevant it comes in every opportune context. So enjoy!

Poem #101


This is our day of choice.

It is ours, a day to rejoice;

To shout, ululate and scream

A stream of tears of our dream.

It is ours, a day to rejoice;

To celebrate our vote, our voice,

To scum, skim our long awaited cream,

Our sweat harvest from our ancestral dream.

Now that we’ve had our debut access

To our century long sought-after success,

Negotiated in the first place by means of bullet,

Let’s now sing our new hymn: ‘Forever Free by Ballot!’

Congratulations, kudos to you men of the mud skin,

For gallantly lifting the yoke off our beloved kith and kin,

And by the  very way by our will declare to the Republican,

A heart-generated cry of our very valiant leader: Yes We Can!


“You’ve seen that Blacks cannot rule themselves. Give them guns and they will kill each other. They are good at nothing but making noise, dancing, marrying many wives, and indulging in sex…

Does any one of you believe that the Blacks can rule this country?”

P.W. Botha

Former President of the Republic of South Africa

National Address Speech

August 18, 1985.

(See: Croco-dialed Tears: Tributes to P.W. Botha; poem #89)


In case the Bright Stars lose (God forbid!), then the reason was also prescribed thus in the same bok of ‘The Black Christs of Africa’, written before this South Sudanese national club was born. One of the reasons is in the selection criterion as decried to me by one nationalist those days when I was a magazine editor.

NB: The following poems were picked from a chapter on CORRUPTION in the book.

Poem #110




Goes the starting whistle,

For the champing champions to wrestle,

Kicking the dust up and down,

Tossing the bowl here and there,

From chimp to champ

From county to country

From intra-national

To international


Our politi-called football championship,

That costs a million dollar a goal,

For which every striker strives for personal scores,

With golden trophies to decorate individuals’ rooms,

Is on full swing this season.

Our nation-all foodball match,

A game with fatal knockout of the weak,

The socio-politically unconnected part-tease-fans;

A game where participation is on no technical know-how,

Where qualification is only on tactical know-who,

Is on full swing this season.

That is our so-called social game of unity,

Of unity in units,

At which Man-chaser United

Foodbowl Club

Clutch, clash and crash

With Liver-full

Foodbowl Club.


“The world is divided into people who do things and people who get the credit. Try, if you can, to belong to the first class. There’s far less competition.”

Dwight Whitney Morrow (1873 – 1931)

U.S. diplomat and politician.

Letter to his son

Poem #111


Triple Loss in the Africa Cup of Nations

Week I: Zambia versus Sudan; three – nil!

Week II: Egypt versus Sudan; three – nil!

Week III: Cameroon versus Sudan; three – nil!

Why thrice: nil – nil – nil?!

‘Cause Arabic calls Nile Nil

So the Nile Crocodiles

Are the nil croco-dials.

Can Mr. President please kneel

And explain why the crocodiles of El Nil

Are found only on the northern part of the Nile

Or far away from the southern part of the Nile?

This, the first way of making our peace ultra-active,

Is the best way of making our unity extra-attractive!

Triple Loss in the Africa Chair of Nations

2006: Congo versus Sudan: one – nil!

2007: Ghana versus Sudan: one – nil!

2008: Tanzania versus Sudan: one – nil!

Why thrice: nil – nil – nil?!

’Cause Jesus justifiably says,

First remove the log from your own eye

Then remove the speck from your brother’s eye.

Can Mr. President please kneel to Africa

And explain how Sudan will save the rest of Africa

When the rests of Africa are not able to save Sudan?

When the rests of the world are not able to save Sudan?

This, the first way of dealing with hyper hypocrisy,

Is the best way of dealing with hypo democracy!


“I called off his players’ names as they came marching up the steps behind him … All nice guys. They’ll finish last. Nice guys. Finish last.”

Leo Durocher (1905 – 1991)

U.S. baseball player.

Remark at a baseball field, July 1946.

Nice Guys Finish Last


The Black Christ’s of Africa

By Jon Pen de Ngong