The Natives

An unwanted member of a community
Mustn’t raise a song,
Even if he has the most sonorous voice.
The man they desire to roast
Shouldn’t cream his body with oil.
We are sons of the soil.
We drank from the streams
And lived on the proceeds of the soil.
Call us the natives!
We conquered all neighboring villages
Then war began among relatives.
The notorious triplet must be appeased.
Valiant men prefer their breakfast on the battlefield.
Asú! The great hunter,
Who frustrated men and beasts.
Your dog has filled the pit under
The mat Alaafin laid for you to sit..
The Elephant is not just big but brave.
There’s no bastard among your children,
Every product of your two strong balls
Detest insult!
Their hospitality is second to no other,
To neighbours, more importantly to strangers
We are the natives
Clothed in Iró, búba, dansiki and kembe
With our ‘Ade boisi’ carefully placed on our stubborn heads.

There’s a voice in the market square
Crying that we give our lives to Christ
For peace to reign.
One of your son’s
Is now a pastor who preach a foreign religion.

One thought on “The Natives” by Gideon Oyediji (@gswagz)

  1. This poetry has a very African undertone to it, Lovely piece, good poetry takes the mind on a journey, which you just did. For me Christianity is not a foreign religion

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