ENOCH AANU OJOTISA
From An African Child
Is this the African community my father told me he lived?
In here now, life looks empty,
our hope has come to look vague.
And the temple of our ancestors is famished of its sacrifice.
Now the gods have grown hungry,
and no one looks after the throne of our morality.
The African tradition to our children is opaque,
but the abomination is transparent in our minds.
Who will bring back the lost glory of the Egyptian sunrise?