Dear child, if you’re reading my biography
Sometime in the near future,
When I’m dead and dailies are eulogizing me,
And you pick up this poem to read,
Know it was for you.
When my weak limbs give way to weakness
And the weak lids of pained eyes part in showers
And your smiles are not as effervescent as before,
Remember that I once wished for death
In my weeping when A’s eluded me
On results’ board
Remember the days when I craved for the grave
Because I lacked three square meals
And bottles of champagne to wash it down with.
Remember when I pronounced my own death
Because of the mistakes I made and so forth;
Remember the times I drank overdoses of poison
Remember the day I cried my heart out
Because I found out the result
Of my promiscuity
Remember I once denounced my life for useless
Because I was drinking too much of garri
Without the right amount of groundnuts
Remember I fought my mother every Christmas
And bickered my papa because of wears
Remember I threatened to jump off a building
If the Super Eagles lost another match;
Though I didn’t and they lost.
Remember the times I grabbed the knife handle
And tried to push it into my stomach
Because I hated my parents
Remember the many wrongs I committed.
Don’t forget the times I jammed my hands in church,
Cheering the pastor’s punchlines as he pranced about the altar
Telling me I’d be rich out of the blues;
I believed him.
Don’t forget my tithes and my seed offerings;
The fruits they never yield and the pastor’s new cars afterwards.
Don’t forget the rambling of tongues and languages we didn’t understand,
The screaming hallelujah on empty stomachs
Please remember the many times God has been faithful,
Because each one of them upturned my pockets into the pastor’s palms.
Read my story and songs to the world;
Because they had no copyright protection
When the creator poured them into my brain.
I am a member of the WRR editorial team.