Ugwuele is an Igbo community in Uturu, Isuikwuato Local Government Area, Abia State in Nigeria which houses a stone age site that provides evidence that humans inhabited the region as far back as 250,000 years ago. It was the largest handaxe factory in Nigeria, and possibly in the world.
The site at Ugwuele-Uturu, which lies on a dolerite ridge, was excavated between 1977 and 1981. Archaeologists were led to the site by local people who were aware of the unusual artifacts to be found. The northern end of the site held a huge accumulation of stone-age artifacts up to 6 meters in depth. There was no pottery and no polished stone tools, but there were triangular preforms for bifacial tools as well as many flakes and some cores. Handaxes, mostly broken, accounted for four out of five of the tools, and there were also cleavers, picks and sidescrapers. Based on this mix, the site has been classified as Acheulean. It is possible that these tools were rough or unsuccessful attempts, and the successful tools were carried elsewhere to be refined further.
A rope tightens
Breath constricted
No hand pulls this is self-inflicted sickness
Sickness
Self diagnosed without witness
Wish list grip fist
The beggary of riches
A belly full fights never willingly
An empty stomach does not have the energy to finish it
Layers in between
Padded by a dream
Stretching for the means
Without thought of exhausting the seams
No space for indiginity
On the face of simplicity
A taste of sufficiency's
A bellyfull of lethargy
A dash of apathy a pinch of extacy's a recipe
Serving up a feast for the beast of our treachery
Not sure if your getting celebrity's out effigy
I hear just fine
But I'm deaf to those next to me
Conflict it perplexes me
Cause out biggest battle
Is now we're so free that we choose to be shackled
I'm stuck freedom lasso
This invisible strain of the human stain
Colours every brain, vein
Thus chained to another's pain
We may not be the artist by we surely are the fram
We may just be the smoke
But we cannot blame the flame
Strange is the fruit
That nourishes not the vein
Yet we are odder still
For we seek it like the rain
Nothing bounds out path
Yet we march perfect in lane
Whoever saw a tiger that desired to be tamed?
Reality defies
Nature does not know surprise
Yet the lesion of our season blinds even the eagle's eyes
Spies dread not headlock tight as threadknot
Get lost why throw a bone to a dead dog?
This is not charity
That is just sarcasm
That's why we bite so hard and never bark at em
Spark at em's insane
It's play gather and prey
When even the mighty tiger
He desires to be tamed
I'm stuck freedome lasso
They act as if it's positive
Though it's so obviously derogative
And even if you're bobby
This is never your prerogative
It's obvious we're warriors
And crooked just like bobby is
But colleges and mockeries
Will never make a socrates
Apologies and robberies
They follow with atrocity
Sorrow and hypocrisy
Don't make very good crockery
Watchin' this it's horror bliss
And one day I will promise this
The day the tiger wakes