(Posting, as requested by Owolabi Adeowo Thelogician) (Im a - TopicsExpress



          

(Posting, as requested by Owolabi Adeowo Thelogician) (Im a black child. Are you?) WAKE UP ADAN’MA, THERE IS ANOTHER SUN Out there in our village square of bitter memories, Ada’nma, your fathers wept a river of tears! In the midst of rocky shores that cause supple flesh to smear; they leaped; their feet feared the touch of harmless earth. Thirsty, brutally wounded from the scorch of the oppressors’ heat, they desired a rest-- to save, sour wine of sorrows, they all gallantly shared. And then afar off, over there, you stood void; boldly naked: barely young, Calm—in a solo cry of unquiet silence As if lone; feeble to touch, cold; as if faulty from blood Oh Ada’nma! When will you steer the boat of this cause? The soil in your farmland is good, so is the blooming hymns of the insects at dusk The bounty baskets of corn—the savored sea of sweet honeycombs Your palm tree is fertile; handy are the harvest of your cassava shoots But your heart is weakened; an empty calabash, a vessel that should swallow the seven days rain; now bereaved, without a single drop of oil We still remember the story along Uzor Oshia, on that day before Eke market, of how your mothers were raped on their way from Osimiri; the village river And your fathers, robbed of the labors of their sweats; pressed under the grips of strangers, as a cart is pressed that is heaved with a laden of sheaves We know thy travail O Ada’nma, we know thy sorrow, little seed of the African soil It is the man that have never been to the battle front, that takes the raising of swords for the gossip of women in the market or as the swallow of saucy meat with a tuber of roasted yam Still Ada’nma you have to rise to this cause. You have gone too far to let go this war! Did you hear the voice of the strangers among us? Solemn and desperate—the men on mmanwu mask; chanting and clattering— humans with dreadful sockets, figures with bulgy eyes They say your skin is the color of dreaded nights, without the slimmest and faintest ray of light and that the radiance of darkness is evil; just like the masks that cover the hurt in their murderous eyes Close your ears from their heresy darling black child, do not listen to the flute of their evil call Remember that from the bottom of the black and wretched ikoko, springs the pure and honorably sought agidi Your blood is black and that is the magic; you are African, and you should be proud of it. Again in the close of the night, they raised a lie, they said the tree that will not bend to the wind, will not survive the rage of thundering storms You have bended too long Ada’nma, remember that no raging storm lasts an entire night and that the iroko that will not give in to the rush of running winds shall keep eternally, rare elegance of beauty amidst rivals of forest trees You are Ada’nma and not Adam. Like the strangers, the carpenter might know the paths of the nails through the rafter, it is still mazi that knows the key to every door in the huts The berries of the earth are good Ada’nma, so is the gentle rise of an eastern moon in the midst of a dark night--not then the savory juice of tasty fruits or the glamorous beams of many lights could withstand thy brilliance Ada! Ada!! You are the gentle glow that makes the sun go shy, the core on which the pillars of the world boldly stand; remember on the tender breasts of your ancestors, fell many swords of mighty ones And unlike the night that knows it all dark, your aura still have a cloud of black, at noon, even in the purifying rays of the giant mighty sun Arise now O daughter of the soil, Ada’nma, ages have waited for the emergence of this dawn Your time has come; like it would of a womans child when her day of delivery arrives Hasten up; gird your mantle; tie your loins; stand tall for the future we seek is finally here, a sunny noon that blinds every eye that dares her light There is no tomorrow, every tick of the clock celebrates your kingdom oh black child The night has faded, pave ways for the course of hope Wake up Ada’nma, there is another sun. (c) Oluwawadamilare A Samuel
Posted on: Mon, 19 Jan 2015 11:34:54 +0000

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