Today makes it seven years
Since my family moved here.
A land with hills and valleys,
Peasants and hunters.
Her valleys, filled with banana,
The slopes with palms,
The hills with cassava, edible fruits and vegetable.
Abule Oko is encircled with stories.
Stale and flowery tales,
Jumping from lips to lips
Like a monkey.
Stories of How Baba Posi
Invaded the Baale’s compound with two new cutlasses.
Except for his underpants.
They fled for safety!
The Baale, his chiefs and their beads.
He was ready to sponsor someone’s trip to heaven
Or may be hell.
Baba Posi’s temporal lunacy was triggered by the “ancestral tree”
That crunched his roof and apartment.
The Baale had prevented him from cutting down the tree.
He insisted that someone have to die!