whistling alone to himself to chase away silence,
savoring the new found freedom
and thinking very little of the world he left behind…
Like helpless chicks making joyful noise around the mother hen,
as they attack a meal of corn grains,
the mother hen charges with full rage at the sight of the cobra
who flees, lest it dies from scratches of beak and nails…
We are free to live our lives how we want it,
shape our destinies and those of generations after,
make the best of every little choice
and write our own history with the finest oratory flow.
Like a deaf man wandering into the lion’s den,
unaware of its hungry roars,
like a blind man about to walk off a high cliff
while a deaf and dumb man sits near, unable to warn him…
We have set dry leaves aflame during hamattan
forgetting the wind will carry fire to our nearby huts,
instead of rushing to the stream we rush back to our huts
and stretch our limbs on mats, praying for rain.
When tomorrow comes,
we hope to see the bushes cleared
and the ground ready
for our yam seeds.
Written by: Charles Bernard Aghadi
Edited by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson
I am a member of the WRR editorial team.