Letter To Efezino

Letter To Efezino

 

Dear son:

 

Things were never always the way they are

Once was a raging battle to sire a heir

But after the fact came the scars:

What with the doomsday prophesy of Dr. Oscar

And the countless drugs, tablets and herbs

Not put off I sought Her by the kerb

Waiting for me on the journey of my life’s path

We became friends and lovers fast

Swearing till death our life’s pact

But without an income, marriage was an ovum

A ripe dream soaring before our gaze in every autumn

Undeterred, we dreamt up your naming

A young scion to take away the aching

Whose smile and frown would go cementing our scares

From one rainy night to a thousand uncertain days

But to this brew came winds of discord

Threatening your zygote with looming extinction

With night and day came quarrels in reward

I stood by you and Her though it poured

Taking Her into my home when her people roared

Wrapping frail arms around her when my people warred

Fighting for Her stay in the ensuing storm

To Kano I journeyed to be by Her side

As Her Kpim, and to answer to Her every whim

And also by the bulge of you reside

Our issues aside, we lived as one in kin

Relieving our dreams at our every limn

With thoughts of you as our earthly limb

To the gift of your smile, my prayer from a mile

Of gratitude and revered thanks to your maker

For the day I heard your cries

Though far away, the phone I glued to my drums

Not letting go till the credit beeped its end

Through Plateau, Gombe, Bauchi and Jigawa

I hurried home from the NYSC camp in Taraba

Eager to behold your miracle in Dambari

Where you lay in Her arms like a wrapped present

From the rain I peeked at your presence

Till I was dry enough to envelope you in my arms

Her mother was there, present

And from her my troubles began

Your mother had grown reckless

Buoyed by the presence of you and her mother

Disregarding my bidding at her own behest

Trouble came strolling in on a Sunday

A culmination of a bearable sixty-one days

I made excuses for Her, my recovering bride

But it was two long months to your pristine cry

And that fateful day was the severing cord

When she called me names amid the angry mob

Who had broken into my home at the sound of Her screams

‘Kidnapper! Rape! Kidnapper! Rape!’

Words your mother continually screamed

And Her mother, raised her voice and cross to curse

‘You’ll never know peace in this life’

Ranting in ‘bode till her voice was sore

Because they had come back home late from worship

And I demanded to know where they had gone

And to hold you in my arms at once

They held my son from me

Eliciting in me, the greatest of rage

‘You’d beg to die, but you will never see death’

Curses your mother flung at me like ashes from a hearth

Because I tried to pry you from Her mother’s grip

I’m bewildered till this day, what god I must have hurt

To have the once loving Uyemeh

Behave towards me like a cursed stranger

But they did not end there

They took you far away from me

Claiming I did not own the child

That I had not paid the price

So by custom I was living a lie

They took you away from me

To Lagos where Her father lived

Where lack and want was at peace

But undeterred I came after you

Stealing you away after your mother’s refusal to obey

My mother and sister who had gone with me

Were locked up in a cell like thieves

They called them kidnappers too

And my mother cried

Bemoaning my fate in this nuptial tie

I had to take you back

Lest my family be put to shame

Now, I hear they lack, struggling for your upkeep

But still too proud to admit their wrongs

I watch from afar but I’m near

Listening to your every tear

It’s almost four months, but still I wait

I promise myself strength so I don’t die at this rate

So one day, our worries and fears we would berate

 

15/10/2011

Ohmston Weth

 



11 thoughts on “Letter To Efezino” by Ohmston Weth (@ohmston)

  1. Whoa! There is hope for us yet.
    Oga, this is the best thing I have read from you. Seriously, this is a master piece.

    1. Thanks boss. I’m humbled.

  2. “To Lagos where Her father lived

    Where lack and want was at peace”

    Guy, you can only get better. I see you are trying to work on the rhymes, you’ll get there. Keep improving bro.

    Good job.

    1. @Banky; trying to work on lines? dont think so. Maybe you should read again. there was no ‘trying’ to do anyfin in this work. thanks for stopping by.

  3. I feel this ain’t fiction right? Very touching…

    1. The exact same feeling I leave with…

      It’s really powerful.

    2. NO, it isnt. glad you enjoyed it.

Leave a Reply