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THIS IS NOT
MY AFRICA!


My Africa
Was an Africa of village life,
Of tales and forklores
Where we tarried long into the night
To play catch ups on whose son
Wanted whose daughter in marriage

On whose farmland was not doing well
And what could be done...
My Africa was a message of hard work
And eventual recompense...

Every night,
The songs of the nightingale
Mingled with our weary bones
Sent us asnoring...
Only to be awoken by Cockerels
Singing another melody of hopeful, eventful Africa

My Africa was a story of a brother 
Watching out for another
It was a story of warriors
Fighting to defend the heritage
And integrity of all,
Not this Africa that I now see...

This Africa is one beloved,
Clutched to, by all
Yet, it is one of envy, hatred,
Fear and indolence.
Village life is a tall dream
Sleep is in enmity with this.

This Africa is one of busted veins
And blood oozing out
Like tributaries,
Like rivers flowing into rivers

And, it is not mine!
Who will bring back my Africa?

(c) *  Ochelebe
Inspired by:
The painting of Nelly Idagba

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