ONCE UPON A TIME – By Gabriel Okara

And this is another deep poem by the Nigerian poet,

Gabriel Okara. Most of us are guilty of the points raised in the poem...lol
I was to act in this poem, as the child the mother was talking to, with Bidemi Stella (can't remember her surname) at Navy Secondary School in Abeokuta, I did not take the part eventually. We had to modify 'son' to 'child' in the recital.... I was in SS1 (1998/1999).


Once Upon a Time
Once upon a time, son,
they used to laugh with their hearts
and laugh with their eyes:
but now they only laugh with their teeth,
while their ice-block-cold eyes
search behind my shadow.

There was a time indeed
they used to shake hands with their hearts:
but that’s gone, son.
Now they shake hands without hearts
while their left hands search
my empty pockets.

‘Feel at home!’ ‘Come again’:
they say, and when I come
again and feel
at home, once, twice,
there will be no thrice-
for then I find doors shut on me.

So I have learned many things, son.
I have learned to wear many faces
like dresses – homeface,
officeface, streetface, hostface,
cocktailface, with all their conforming smiles
like a fixed portrait smile.

And I have learned too
to laugh with only my teeth
and shake hands without my heart.
I have also learned to say,’Goodbye’,
when I mean ‘Good-riddance’:
to say ‘Glad to meet you’,
without being glad; and to say ‘It’s been
nice talking to you’, after being bored.

LITTLE THINGS THAT REMIND US THAT GOD IS STILL WITH US

Two days ago, I needed some rubber bands to bind my hair. I lost the ones I brought in to the rig earlier and I did not know what to do with my braids, as they kept on untying even when I tried to tie them. Also, tying was not good for me as it required some pull and tug at my scalp which protested with some pain. I had been thinking of where I could get rubber bands, but I did not tell God about it, I was only discussing with myself.

So, I was in my unit (work cabin), and at last told God that I had need of rubber bands for my hair. Few seconds after, I turned my head and I saw two wide and thick bands, different from the regular ones staring at me on the sill of the white board marker in the unit. My God, I have been in this unit for weeks and I never saw them! I was so grateful. I'm sure God kept them from being seen by others because my colleague would have picked them earlier in the day when he was looking for rubber bands and I told him I wanted some for my hair too.

This simple event encouraged me, that even if I have not seen some things I have been earnestly praying and waiting for, God is working. He reminded my that He hears me each time I call by supplying the rubber bands immediately.

AFRICA By David Diop

This poem reminds me of the Literary and Debating Society of my noble secondary school, Abeokuta Grammar School, and it is a deep poem too. May my dear Africa be free indeed, oh my Africa:



Africa, my Africa
Africa of proud warriors in ancestral savannahs
Africa of whom my grandmother sings
On the banks of the distant river
I have never known you
But your blood flows in my veins
Your beautiful black blood that irrigates the fields
The blood of your sweat
The sweat of your work
The work of your slavery
Africa, tell me Africa
Is this you, this back that is bent
This back that breaks
Under the weight of humiliation
This back trembling with red scars
And saying yes to the whip under the midday sun
But a grave voice answers me
Impetuous child that tree, young and strong
That tree over there
Splendidly alone amidst white and faded flowers
That is your Africa springing up anew
Springing up patiently, obstinately
Whose fruit bit by bit acquires
The bitter taste of liberty.