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Human choirs join the
Heavenly angels and saints.
Praises to God the Savior is born.
Man at last is saved from his sins.
The church bells toll,
A stream of colours flows towards the church.
For some it’s a year since they last came,
Others it’s day and night, morn’ and evening.
Quarrels over dresses, food and drinks,
The faces still carry them right into the church.
The scars of last night’s fight show on her face.
He pockets the bitten finger, which still drips with blood.
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Writer Profile
AJI JAMES
I developed an interest in writing in primary school, where writing and documenting the stories that were told in the evenings when the family gathered around the fireside was a hobby.
This interest increased when I travelled to Nigeria for university studies. My thoughts found a way of expression through poetry, which I had hitherto thought very complicated.
I presently have over fifty poems, a little below twenty short stories, and several articles on diverse social issues.
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