Arinzechukwu Bright Okafor Poems

Africa,
eternal home of the Black man,
mother of ancient kingdoms,
mother of rivers,
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ENDURANCE TREK

It is still very fresh in my memory as if it happened yesterday.
We were fully kitted. We filed-out of the Okada Camp onto the road. Like ants filling out of decaying stem. Unaware of the distance that lay ahead, we sang and danced. All were in high spirit. Osuofia told us funny stories and also gave us ‘'Morale''. We were Corpers
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They argued not their posting
They trusted the law for safety
Many years they laboured
A long way they travelled
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Between the Omambala,
the Niger and Ezichi,
where the green forest breathed
and rivers carried fish to the hungry,
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September fourth—
A date history keeps.

In 1781,
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