By
Abdulkareem Awwal Opeyemi
Cry of a spider
Like you toil day and night,
to pour safety on your head
So, too I toiled to house my tiny body
In the open mighty scraper built from nothing
How cruel are you
Thou son of the hairy skull
Whose inner temple wickedness squat
Thou homes you left,
In search of greener pasture
My home I vacate too in search of pastures
My mansion you demolished
In the name of defence
From powers never unseen
My sky scraper you forfeited
All in mythology belief
Defence I have not
But history shall tell
How the silent cry of spider
Causes him homeless
Ikumolu
Their blood drained just under the rain
That beat the land yesterday
Like we have no roof up there over our head
The birds and the scavengers savage the remains
Of the heroes, the flag bearers
That once carry the true eulogy of our home
Death, you gave us another name
Whose bearer dare not boast of
You carted away the name we were once proud of in your raid
And made us swallow the pill of an unanswered name
You stole away aduke and alake away from us
After the deadly wind you blew on ajala and cohort
Our only hope of kinship
And you wore on us,
A name sewn from the cloth of history
They changed our name,
Alake and aduke became a past name
We forgot the blood that draws from the ram
On the seventh day,
When aduke and alake were placed on us like a sacred land
“Ikumolu” becomes our new name
Like “akisa” became the new name for the useless gown
Glossary
Ikumolu: It’s said in Yoruba language that a woman doesn’t bear ikumolu, unless all the brave men in her family have been taken away by death
akisa: Yoruba name for rag
alake and aduke: Yoruba traditional name for females
ajala: Yoruba traditional name for a male
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