As I sit here writing under a tussled willow Tree

In the village of Ifatumobi’

As I write..

Most of the brandish leafs is waxed to the wind roar

Only the naked trunks are left gazing at the rain-less sky

 

Ojude-Omoba In the town of Ifatumobi

Used to be;

The meadow where we sport and boogie before I left

For Ilu-oke’re (abroad), now’

The emerald paddock has taken a russet dye

Whipped by the hurricane-blushed by the sun

 

The hemisphere was catalogued with beautiful flowers
The pinky anthurium has presently lost their alluring pigmentation

The unfinished grasses looking tired and tainted

Nothing was left  unvarnished…

 

Except the galleria wooden pub patched by the market women

And the buzzed ribs in the arcane graves

Of the lost babies and the doomed warriors

 

The lurid leafs of the honeysuckles around the millpond have plunged and flown
The jasmine smell is now tinged with unpleasant smell of dead fishes

The village of  Ifatumobi has been without king for a decade

Every attempt to crown one bring swords to fore

War ravaged through the land of Ilu-ifatumobi

The habitats all of which grew into nuisance across the neigborhood

A bloodbath provoked within sliced through every spoons on the salver

 

A woe authored by the very hands of the  senators ‘Ijoye’

Torrent of blood  flow like floods of heavy august rainfall

Horses whinnying and falling in the roaring dust

Scapula on the drained ocean channel  burrow

 

Silence stole the atmosphere
Only a barking black dog by the firewoods
And a random cock-crow at distance

 

No man was left standing except an infirm old man with shrunk skin

He sat in his barn with rolled tongue and forest hair

Was he quiet or numbed? I soliloquized….

 

His mute face scares me

He won’t even say a word to a curious prince

So I stood aghast by the wall clock in the bungalow

The wall clock dings cries of dead babies

While the nucleus bell dangles in mournful sways

 

When

‘Ade-oye’

The newly crowned king was slain by the kingmaker

With arrow thrust through his golden crown and pierce

The “Olori’s’ were raped and shepherded like cattle into slavery

The Ogungbenro clan-conquered the kingdom

And disappeared with beautiful women (olo’ori abike) with gorgeous braid

Some thirsty camels accompanied by horse-impel chariots

 

I listened to the old man

Spoke with broken breathe and

random coughs’

 

I watched him wrote an eulogy with his own fetid blood 

He then lay back on his widget bamboo bed

Breathing in coma with his lips opened ajar

Sniveling in the twinge of death

Till energy undo!

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A NATION WITHOUT LOVE IS A MASSIVE GRAVE..

 

Ayuba Jamiu (c) December 2011