MY ROOTS

My grandmother took me there,

There, to my roots.

I was appalled seeing the greens

I was happy eating directly from nature

I was satisfied drinking from the Okuwafomu well.

But then evening came

And the mosquitoes dealt me blows.

My lovely grandmother took me there

But then after passing the night

I was told farm was inevitable.

That farm locked all my joints

And introduced me to a variety of thirsty for blood insects

Who were no hypocrites in getting what they wanted.

Strapped on the back of a youthful man

My tired and locked body came through the unsympathising rain

Like dead firewood, I was placed on a mat,

Welcomed again by the happy mosquitoes

Who led me into a shivering sleep.

Yes, my grandmother took me there

That place where my placenta lie

And though it was thrilling

Those first moments made me wish, I came from somewhere else.

By amoafowaa