Songs of Anisha
“Stolen Home,”
by ‘Kego Onyido
They came home, to find it was no more
The dusty red earth,
Holy and welcoming to our feet
Soft to touch as we kneel to fill our palms with a part of universe
A land so blessed we bow our foreheads and kneel in homage
To the mysteries buried beneath.
The rusty, dusty red-earth, all gone.
Gone!
And in its place coal-tarred, bitumen-filled grounds.
Hard roads, so unwelcoming and unforgiving.
Before, we gave the blood of cockerels to the spirits of the soil
And so we walked, young and old alike,
To our mud homes on bare-feet, freely and safely.
And they came, those fair strangers
And told us that we desecrate our land,
They told us our chi was no good at all
We believed them without questioning,
And our brothers that dared to question,
they made us cast aside.
Chei! Chimo! Alu!
And so now, these roads feed not on the cockerels’ blood
But on the blood of our innocent sons and daughters
Who discard their feet for fast metal boxes
streamlined for speed.
Ah speed!
And so we all hurry, but unto death.
Earning more and yet poorer still.
Yes, they came home
And found it was no more.
They came home to find it was no more.
Those tranquil scenes and yet something deeper.
Foliage so green it mesmerizes the senses.
The palm trees adorning narrow, winding roads,
wild flowers with hidden thorns sleeping peacefully by the roadside.
The smells of burning woods and oils
The air filled with aromas of ogiri and ugba
And colors, such a kaleidoscope that the eyes cannot contain
And so, it savors it slowly and richly in the heart, in the mind, in the spirit.
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