…So,
besides the black and white
besides words
besides the edge
of the executioner’s blade
and the curve of the bullet
that comes too late
what keeps the darkness at bay?
what keeps evil from our beds?…
Chika Jones is a performance poet and writer. Born and raised in Lagos to an Igbo-Yoruba household, he embodies Nigeria’s multiethnic fabric and cosmopolitan ethos.
Lagos influences most of his writing—its chaos, culture and vibrance, diversity—and like many other Nigerian writers, his work is inspired by gender-based violence and conflict themes. In an interview with Funtimes Magazine, he said, “Most of my initial poems have been responses to societal issues.” However, recently, he has been “very interested in the concept of joy; what it is, why it’s important, and how to capture and share it through poetry and performance.”
In 2016, Jones attended the Farafina Creative Writing Workshop curated by Chimamanda Adichie. He participated in the MacArthur Foundation project to help raise awareness amongNigerian voters in the run-up to the 2019 Nigerian elections.
Chika Jones lives in southeastern England and is the founder of Naija Theatre and Medway Poetry Night. He is happily married and an avid reader. Worthy of mention is that he is a Barcelona fan.
Finally, he is a bona fide Gen Z, averaging about five tweets per day and heaven knows how many re-tweets.
Passing Place by Chika Jones
In Scotland
There are some narrow roads
and every few metres in
a pregnant bulge to the side
called a passing place.
Now,
despite the compass
skyscrapers and moon landings
despite the light bulb
telephones and penicillin
despite our constitutions
legislations and supreme courts
the mind remains a wild place
fertile ground for the beautiful and the horrible
And,
despite the jury and the judges
our laws strain like cloth,
and fail like sieve,
to hold what seethes within.
So,
besides the black and white
besides words
besides the edge
of the executioner’s blade
and the curve of the bullet
that comes too late
what keeps the darkness at bay?
what keeps evil from our beds?
In Scotland
There are some narrow roads
and every few metres in,
a pregnant bulge to the side
a passing place.
And,
when a car would come upon another car
a staredown on opposite sides
one driver would decide to use the passing place
the bigger patch of road, beside
A place to wait
to let the other pass
like the compromises we make
the backseat our desires take
the gentle closing of a mouth
the swallowing,
letting go.
A reminder
that we can all be passing places
a respite from all that is coming,
a place to wait out the storm
where, there is no right of way
where, there is no right or wrong
there,
in Scotland,
there are some narrow roads.
- Black Poets: Véronique Tadjo. - December 9, 2024
- Black Poets: Bassey Ikpi. - December 2, 2024
- Black Poets: Chika Jones. - November 18, 2024
