On this raffia mat, while monsoon winds blow over me,
I dream of a land afloat white with snow
Some icy coldness hitting my face and feet,
With an attire like an eskimo to ward it off.
I seek to see the orchards, prairies, pines and figs,
Alps and glaciers instead of these clay-coated mountains
In place of the cocks cackling, a cock-a-doodle-doo
I want to be awakened by the buzzing of an alarm
Continually ringing no matter how I snooze.
I want a blanket crawling over me, while I sip some
Hot mocha, watching the embers burn in the fireplace
I have experienced enough woe,
From the faucets running dry daily, to
Being sandwiched between two fat women
In a minicab, another dreaded foe
Sit me on a seat on an underground train
As it wriggles its way through the earth-buried terrain.
To leave this “Ghana must go” bag behind
And freely reel the wheels of my suitcase in the
Departure hall to a land flowing with milk and honey
My joy would ascend to the highest heavens
If that’s the beginning of soft things and soft life
I’d subscribe to it!
This poem was published in the 9th Issue of PoeticAfrica magazine.
Please click here to download.
Read – Trapped – Mwangi Ndīritu (Kenya)
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