Where We Call Home
(On Nigeria @60)
The lies that we tell to ourselves,
untold stories that we hum to ourselves –
stories whose words fail to haze in listening eyes;
stories whose history we munch at supper
when our stray eyes recall our youth-hood –
a past draped in ‘Responsible’ plaques–
so we wonder, “What are we doing here?”
Well, home is where we call here!
Those sweet tales we munch stealthily,
some pitch of ‘Vision’20’ vestiges…
Scoffs –at the ‘higher ups’, and their mis-reps,
a pitch firmly warped in Northern ‘illiteracy’;
Western ‘over-sabi’ racketeers;
Southern clamor –woolgathering,
and the Eastern hate for all things ‘un-theirs’.
Yet, home is where we call here!
Some creative spirit kips in our mother’s kitchen,
its joyful resilience puns lampooned comedies;
its six decades of intricacies flails too –at age,
at the many tethered unions:
‘Biafran’, ‘Bayajiddan’, ‘Omo Odù…’
Enrolment by revenue –
or by loss.
But, home is where we call here!
Well, I can only try,
to wipe the dry tears;
to sniff it all away,
to tell you my –our– story:
a story, not of failure, of a becoming;
a story, not of a nation, of a people –
a people whose home mirrors.
Happy New Month 🙃
©J. Olayinka Olarinoye (Epiphany)
You can follow up on his page to read more amazing poems @ https://beingtheepiphany.wordpress.com