Forgotten Lands


Today I was just reminiscing about the condition of my people,

The struggle for the ‘good things in life’ has made everybody forget the simple things,

Like the songs of the sparrow in the morning, the taste of freshly tapped palm wine,

The beauty of communion among people of the same culture in the palm oil of our native tongue,

I haven’t forgotten these things, in fact; I envy those people in the rural areas, who are far away from the concrete jungle,

Life in this jungle is characterized by toxins; in our food, air and water,

In this place we live like beasts, survival of the fittest is the code we live by,

No one wants to stick his head out for anyone unless it benefits him,

Here only two forces unite men, fear and interest,

Everyone is scared of everyone, either they are intimidated by you or they just feel threatened by your presence,

So just to guard against their insecurities, they feel the need to always intimidate you with their frivolous living,

In this place, happiness doesn’t matter, as a matter of fact; it is thrown out the window,

Why should I be broke and happy? What is the point of having a happy family without food on the table? They ask themselves,

As I thought on these things, a solution came to mind, a simple one at that

Simplicity is the greatest form of complexity to the human mind, or so they say,

I decided that my children will grow up and spend their early lives in my village,

They will learn the tradition of my people; they will learn the Igbo language and be fluent in it before they learn English,

I will groom them in African art and school them in our ancient music,

My daughters will learn to be African mothers, Strong and homely mothers,

And my sons will learn the joys and rewards of hard work from an early age through farming,

They will eat our native dishes and learn to cook it properly; they will learn to respect their elders in the ancient way,

They will have Igbo accents, the same way the French and Italians have their own accents,

They will make sincere friends there in the village, people who love them because they are brothers,

They will learn about the ancestors and gods of my people before they embrace the god of the white man,

They will learn to appreciate the beauty of the village before they run to this jungle;

They will go to the stream to fetch pure water, they will fetch Firewood from the bush,

You may say I want to make my Children ‘Bush’ or ‘local’, but who is the local one but he who has lost his identity,

I will give my kids what I never had, and that is knowledge of their people, not from the slave masters education but from the lips of the ancient and wise ones who have made their abode in our forgotten lands.



4 thoughts on “Forgotten Lands” by chuksukegbu (@Chuksukegbu)

  1. mendel martha (@ihenyengladysusile)


  2. ojestar (@ojestar)

    Good thought there…I’m also determined to speak Yoruba with my children at home. They should speak English with their teachers in school. Lol….This is beautiful. Well done.

    1. Thank you..I appreciate the comments

  3. aplusn (@aplusn)

    Great piece, deep thoughts

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