Ezemalukwuo, Not Just A Title Poem by Tony Cemaluk

In his father's house, many wives, many sons,
But Ada was first — the daughter of dawn,
Given in marriage to a house that held warrant,
A house where chiefs spoke and earth shook.

Then her brother from one womb left,
And Ada became a tree without root beside her,
Her husband saw it and raised his hand,
Believing no voice would rise for her.

She came with tears to her father's compound,
And met him — just returned from Lafia,
My father, young, not expected to confront strong chief family,
But he heard the tears of his father's Ada, and braced up.

He took her hand, he faced the man,
He carried her case to the Warrant Palace,
Where judgement sat, but tilted,
Favouring power against the weeping woman.

My father did what young-brothers are not expected to do,
What fearful men would never do,
He took his sister by the hand,
And said, 'Nwannem nwanyi bia ka anyi laa — my sister come let us go home. I can cater for you.'

He walked out on a Warrant Chief,
A walk that shook the stool itself,
And the Chief, humbled, sent his emissaries abegging,
Come back, bring our wife, let justice speak again.

This time, justice stood straight,
No partiality, no bending,
My father nodded, 'This is fair, Nwannem nwanyi stay.'

As he turned to go, the Warrant Chief called him,
'Young man, you are Ezemalukwuo Ikwe, Eze amaghikwu iju,
If a king judges well, you accept,
If not, you walk away.'

That day, a name was born before Ozo,
Not given by title, but by courage,
Not by cap, but by character.

Ezemalukwuo — not just a title, but a verdict on justice.