I remember this Poem with great nostalgia. Back in 1983/84 as a Class 3 Student of Nsukwa Grammar School (NGS) when I dramatically, to the amazement of the Principal (Mr. Kamene) and the enire staff led by Mr F. C. Offor of blessed memory, recited this poem during the literary and debating club program. After that performance, I was penciled down for Socials prefect with my best friend Godwin Okojie as the SP. When I compare the NGS of that time and present, I cannot but weep for my once envied Alma mata. God bless NGS and Nsukwa the land of my birth. In vain your bangles cast Charms circled at my feet I am Abiku, coming for the first And repeated time. Must I weep for goats and cowries For palm oil and sprinkled ash? Yams do not sprout amulets To earth Abikus limbs. So when the snail is burnt in his shell, Whet the heated fragment, brand me Deeply on the breast - you must know him When Abiku calls again. I am the squirrel teeth, cracked The riddle of the palm; remember This, and dig me deeper still into The gods swollen foot. Once and the repeated time, ageless Though I puke, and when you pour Libations, each finger points me near The way I came, where The ground is wet with mourning White dew suckles flesh-birds Evening befriends the spider, trapping Flies in wine-froth; Night, and Abiku sucks the oil From lamps. Mothers! Ill be the Suppliant snake coiled on the doorstep Yours the killing cry. The ripest fruit was saddest Where I crept, the warmth was cloying. In silence of webs, Abiku moans, shaping Mounds from the yolk. Written by Wole Soyinka
Posted on: Fri, 23 May 2014 20:54:03 +0000
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