John Pepper Clark-Bekederemo

John Pepper Clark-Bekederemo (6 April 1935 – 13 October 2020), prominent as J. P. Clark, was a pioneering Nigerian poet, playwright, and academic whose literary works deeply explored post-colonial identity, natural elements, and the tragedy of the Nigerian Civil War. Quotes Ibadan, / running splash of rust and gold— / flung and scattered / among seven hills like broken / china in the sun. "Ibadan" (1965), a foundational quintain reflecting on the landscape of the ancient city, archived via Modern Poetry from Africa. "The casualties are not only those who are dead; / They are well out of it. / The casualties are not only those who are dead, / Though they await burial by installment." The Casualties" (1970), detailing the pervasive psychological and societal scars of the Nigerian Civil War, text accessible via PoemHunter African Poetry Archive. "So let us roll over our back / And again roll to the beat / Of drumming all over the land / And under its ample soothing hand / Joined to that of the sea / We will settle to sleep of the innocent and free." "Night Rain" (1962), a poem capturing domestic vulnerability and natural rhythms within the Niger Delta, text via Efiko Magazine Literary Analysis. "Coming and going these several seasons, / Do stay out on the baobab tree, / Follow where you please your kindred spirits." "Abiku" (1962), appealing to the traditional spirit child of African cosmology to break the cycle of reincarnation, text via Modern Poetry from Africa. "An unplanted seed in the womb is a burden to the earth, a weeping cloud that refuses to fall." Song of a Goat (1961), a tragedy exploring family dynamics, cultural expectations, and fate within traditional Ijaw society. Ozidi(1966) Now, who was it said our country lacks the fertile soil to produce sweet innocent flowers? Let him come and view these sprigs to the garland we have gathered in one spot, all of them undefiled still by bird or wind. Act 1, Scene One, pg 2 Of morning glory, three shall pick the grey hair. And lice on our sacred head, and any climbing up. Our arm-pits; all this as we recline. Basking in the evening glow of our life. Two shall pare our finger and toe nails, and one, shall scratch our tender back although we both know. The itch in the flesh is far down elsewhere. Act 1, Scene Two, pg 12 We took part in a children’s play electing that idiot king, for although his is a withered hand, we are going to feel as from now, the terrible weight of his brother’s arm. Act 1, Scene Three, pg 15 Hunger has no hold on you, you said, as if hunger with death are no longer twin rulers of the world. Tell me, does Your stomach ache? Act 4, Scene One, pg 89 The night has a thousand sirens, and if the master will not answer their calls, why should not the servants? Act 5, A Twin Scene, pg 117 External links Category:1935 births Category:2020 deaths Category:Nigerian writers