My 'He'

I’m very sure
I saw it in his look
Confident he was and gave me no chance
Not even the slightest to reach the next falls
Without crawling back to his crippled creek
Of which he clowned with so much pride n bliss.
Regret not why you made me be
Cos I wished on my part I never gave life another chance
When the inevitable came calling.
Remember caring not if I would make it
When left helpless in the hands of those who knew not
The pains in the labour room.
Those who depriving an infant
The nurturing of its mum
Rang no message to their evil intents.
I remember standing before mama
Like a refugee child from the Somalian war
With my rickety legs battling for steadiness
Dancing to the pressure it’s been subjected to
by the pregnant me
Mama even asked my courier where her little boy was
As she couldn’t place the sight before her.
An infant I was then but still the tear dropped.
He who valued not my choice to stay
As he showered upon my childhood
The blessings of sufferings and wants.
I still remember vividly
The scorching sun of the Sahara
And the rains like the Amazons
Of which he forced me to embrace
Outside the place where I called home.
I even once role-played my funeral
With only my siblings in attendance,
Little I was then but old enough to know of his misdeeds.
Once begged in the market place for bread
When even a hard day’s labour
Could not provide my much needed square meals.
I must have cursed every night
When the eerie sounds around became my lullaby.
I often listened with my mother’s bred
As he beats her up every night
Attracting the gossips of those we called brother.
That night was the stroke that broke the camel’s back
Cos I was old enough to stand for mama
Even if it had to be in the face of death.
This is a tribute to my ‘He’
My ‘He’ who taught me no art of war
My ‘He’ who taught me no skill for fishing
Left me no legacy for keeps
Yet gads about in his garment of ignorance.

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