Home BellsJuly 3, 2020
Seventeen cradles of beads sprouted
Schooling around completion
With hope of being a surpass
Winter came, as I mourned summer and Autumn.
Beacon of hope, I still pressed on
Daring not to fall
Small brother just behind me
I felt the molly of the moon.
Fate became unpromising again
I fell short of some marks
I had to go back
To refurbish the flaws.
‘No, no, you still need to go one step back
You’ll disturb your small brother,’
So, I was a grade behind him.
At the times, small bull was initiating
Mama hid him to pass Christian rites
We whined like wounded lionesses
He had to be smeared with white ochre too
And feel the pain of the nestles!
‘Your job, boy’
Papa directed me
Away we went to the modern houses
Scampered with the small bull to the traditional houses
Chanting sacred victory songs.
Small brother groaned in pain
As we crossed the river
Little did I know
He’d latet terrorise my family !