I COULD HAVE BLAMED YOU: This is a typical lamentation of an African man whose beloved son seems to have been ‘swallowed’ by a foreign land/country…

I could have blamed you

as the gods sought to blame me.

I could have thrown your name

to the winds to devour.

Did I ask too much

When I built roses around you name?

Your bed is still

alive;

alive with the warmth of your afterbirth.

It was two weeks ago

Today

Your mother broke her elbow

Working through the woods

Like a man.

I could have wiped your face

from the wall

as neighbors seek to destroy

the creases

that identify my footsteps.

I could have blamed you

for turning me into an abandoned property.

You’ve chose to get lost

like a useless number in a foreign land.

You have chosen to trade your real name

for a silly number.

While you pay for every drop of water

that comes your way,

your age mates are thriving back home

like fishes in the sea.

The land that came from father to me

which should go from me to you,

will soon go from me to the unknown.

They say “the vulture is a patient bird”.

and patient is what I intend to be.

It may take time,

son,

to bring you back to the land

where your placenta is buried.

But,

I’ll wait.

Your mother’s hearth needs security

from ravages.

It may take time,

Son,

It may take time.

But,

I’ll wait.

I refuse to be angry,

Son;

and I refuse to give up on you.

“Anger toward one’s blood is anger toward oneself—

It does not descend from the surface to the bone marrow”

I could have blamed you

from the top of the mountain.

But now, it’s not the blame that counts.

It’s the future.

And,

every day that passes by

brings that future closer home.