MY 9/11 WISH

I am a loveless love child
born of the passion which once burnt wild
like a bush-fire between two estranged lovers
one pale and stale dusk in September-
11^th September, '84. But my mother
and father never tied the knot
since their love's hibiscus started to rot
when I was born that sad September...
 
I had to live through the next seventeen years
with mother- my ebullient mother.
Mother whose splash of coal hair
billows smoothly in the mid-air
and flows down her broad shoulder
like a waterfall sprawling into a silvery river.
Mother's lachrymose eyes is darker than tar
and the colour of her smooth and succulent skin
shines blacker than the feathers of a raven.
I am an egg in mother's fragile heart
She trembles to see me torn apart.
 
Every morn, when I rise before the sun
I'd ask mother with tears swirling in my eyes
'Why do father live far; would I see him tomorrow?'
Then mother visibly shattered would slur in sorrow-
"Ayo, your father and I love you so...
But love is a flame; it could be smouldered
Or could be ignited. Ours was smouldered
I hope that you'd understand when you grow older..."
 
Mother took me to see father
Like she always do every eleventh of September
But this September was marred by a disaster,
As we heard on our radio, the blue news
That the US twin towers have crumbled
Like two peanut pyramids on a myriad of race.
 
Father resides in Ancient Ibadan
A town with a cluster of rusty zinc
dancing in the dusty wind from rooftops.
Father brown eyes beamed like torch
-and mine melted into liquid like wax-
when he saw me and I broke free from mother.
Father flung his strong arms
around me, raising me like a kite high
to the gentle breeze of his affection.
As he swung me, I burst chuckles in the air:
Then I caught the glassy glimpse of tears
glistening like diamond beads in his eyes.
 
Sometimes, I wish to come to a crossroads
and meet a parched, famished, naked, wizened man
sunk beneath a basket of cocoyams
So that I can scurry to help him
bathe him, clothe him, then feed him-
For he could be a good spirit
wandering through our ancestral land
just as mother recounts in her nightly stories.
 
When he'll decide to grant me any wish
I won't hesitate before I splutter-
'Beyond Earth's gold, diamond and silver
I desire that my father and my mother
Shall be entwined in hearts again, this September!'
 
By Karo Umukoro
Copyright 2004.