"Mama, I made it through the potholes, through those dark bushes that snakes had carpeted. Mama, I made it through the paves which scorpions were freely hawking their stings. I truly made it despite the heavy cloud of bees that overshadowed the way. I made it in the scorching sun that sent out profuse sweat from my body when no power existed in my pockets to obtain an umbrella or water to quench my thirst. Mama, my name did not go round the African continent alone, but together with the image of my village. Apart from the series of amazing compelling books I had written that circulated the world and got a ground in African literature, I received torrential awards from the continent. My aesthetically fascinating articles were also published in various newspapers, magazines, journals etc. Indeed, Mama, my poems flew high and hit the sky. I centralised most of my works on contemporary social ills: child abuse, drug abuse, banditry, rape and so on. Some categories of my works were ...