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Kέnwigbara,
Several times I’ve thought of you.
I think of your battered harbors,
Memories of colonial cultivations
On the affluent oil river;
I think of your narrow-potopotric
Streets endangered more by
The debris of their old castles;
Kέnwigbara,
I think of your mud-thatch huts
Seasoned by time and bullets,
Sloshed by concocted
Idiosyncrasies of state,
Muddied by splashes from under
The conqueror’s jack-boots;
I think of those weak tinny legs
That course your lanes day and night
Scavenging for survival.
Kέnwigbara,
Your gates are littered with
Dead palms and broken timbers;
A narrow-harsh strip caresses
Your form head-to-toe,
Like the slavers’ chains,
Breaking down odd defenses,
Galvanizing spurious bloodiness;
Kέnwigbara,
I think of how hard it is for
Your children to find their
Bearings to your court;
I think of your welcoming hands,
Your liberating spells,
And I remember how your
Youthful radiance was
Desecrated and slaughtered
On the altar of forgotten times;
Kέnwigbara,
You made history in two ages.
You were there before them.
The currents of bu le kii slap
Furiously at the tell-tales of
Your glorious yester-days,
Causing you to sore and stink
Like nwi ibem-baraloo nέέ
In the tale of yester-years;
Kέnwigbara,
The hubris of the great seeks
Shelter in the abode of eminence;
Dogs bark in the presence of enemies,
It’s only in the market place of
Carcasses that vultures dance…
If they were decent enough,
They would’ve known your worth,
They would’ve cleaned and bandaged
Your wounds… lifted you up…
But they’re nothing but greedy lots!
Kέnwigbara,
You made history in two ages.
You were there before them.
You gave them their forms,
Made them stand on mountaintops
Now they laugh at you as dogs lick
Your sores and vultures peck at your
Boils, littering your emaciated frame
With pulverized contusions… oh…
Even as passers-by hold their nostrils,
Spitting and cursing as they negotiate
Your once glorious bastion… tu fia Kwa!
Kέnwigbara,
I remember how you’ve shaped
History and how history has
Shaped you…though fatally
…and because I remember,
I weep for your wounds … the
Soiled wars constantly waged
On you… I weep at your debasement
I weep at your fatality
And at your neglect!
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Dumletam
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