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Kirigina [Kirigina]

Ekpein, my son,

I once faltered on a palm
High up there
I almost passed
I was dried like pond fish
On the altar, back to life,
Trying to prepare you for
Life’s rungs

In the eerie dead of the night
I traversed Ogbugo forestscapes
Trapping snails and fishes,
Tilling yams and
Nourishing plantains
To fuel your fat fees,

Living in makeshift homesteads
In highly mosquitoed nights
Whistling a dual tone
Your dream before mine,
Telling your mother,
‘One day…’

Besmalled in the eyes of my kins
I can’t even put a block on
Another block
Just mud and thatch
Oil in the sun
To fetch you choice
Abuja education.

When by God you pulled
Through and got a place
In that skyscraper house
And the guber of your
Home came into your life

Her first project
Was to rebrand us:
Witch and wizard
From that time
We died in your life.

As you live in that scented
House with those kids
That must not learn to
Speak my tongue,

I understand!

But as you dine
At your tasty table
And relish with mirth,
Menu, meals and dishes,

Remember, my son,
That we still lick kirigina!

NB: Kirigina is an improvised soup prepared without cooking. It is mostly for the poor.

Written by: Torty Abasi Tortivie
Edited by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson

Author: admin

I am a member of the WRR editorial team.

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