They came with walking sticks,
They came with spirits corked in bottles,
They came with mirrors,
They came with demons that emerged from wood and metal,
They came with paper money,
They came with pencil,
They came with eraser,
They came with their Cross and Holy book,
They came with shovels and pick axes,
We used the walking sticks as chewing sticks,
When the spirits in the bottles were uncorked,
They played with our minds and made us,
Laugh at melancholy and cry at Joy,
We held the mirror and marveled at our image and
Never let it go.
We sold blood to them for paper money,
The pencil and eraser we carried atop our heads,
As symbols of pride.
We took up the cross from them and lay it on our shoulder.
Even though the weight was heavy, too heavy
And made their Holy book our pillow,
With shovels and pick axes, they plundered our lands with our help.
And we helped them carry away the seeds of past and our future
They asked us to hold to the gifts they gave us.
So he have stood by the shore, waiting for their return
Stuck in limbo
Unsure of the direction to take
Looking and marveling still at the mirror
Transfixed by it.
Conscious that if we move to the left or to the right
We shall no longer see our image in the mirror.
I am so hopeful that someday, one day
A torrent so strong ,shall blow the mirror
Out of our hands and fall us down too.
So we can go forwards, backwards
Just so we can move.
So we can stop the endless wait
For people that will never come.
Ibä Lagos – January 10,2019