My path is clear and scintillates like a gem
For the world to attempt to retrieve my hand
Like Karl Max instructed in his second Postulate
I, like the Dantes, the Freuds, the Soyinkas, the Ngugis,
The Eza’a Botos, the Achebes
And the Mandelas have been changing the world after
The Platos and the Aristotles interpreted it.
Patiently and smilingly with risen and broad shoulders
I am parading with plenty of sweet memories,
Heart breaking regrets,
Accompanied by angelic lullabies,
Preparing to cross the battle line
Onto a terrain that is already unveiling its realities to me
Through the welcoming arms of inhabitants
Like the Njikis, the Endeleys, the Ebanjas, the Namas
And the four innocent forgotten stars.
Like an innocent school girl opens a new page
Of a breath-taking novel never certain of what she will find,
I gratefully nod my head for my Writer’s acumen,
In knotting His plot so artistically
And teaching me how and when to use His ink.
As I stroll on with keen eyes and high spirits
Enthusiastic to meet and embrace my novelist,
I will never feel despair,
Never jokingly talk of Zombies,
Never be a victim of propaganda,
Never be a victim of indoctrination;
I will live to teach and teach to live.
« return.