Many Missions, One Mansion Poem by Tony Cemaluk Egbuonu

We left with different reasons,
Same dust on our feet.

One left to find gold in the hills,
One left to find God in a quiet room,
One left because hunger knocked too loud,
One left because love promised a softer bed.
Some waited for those that left to come back with goodies.

Many missions.
Different maps.

She sells zobo under the hot sun,
Roasted corn under dim light.
Her brother rides till evening curfew,
Their father still digs the earth for a living.
Their mother still prays the pit will not swallow him,
Or curfew handcuff her children.

We argue about who suffered most,
Who hustled right,
Who cut corners.

But at night,
We return to the same compound,
Same pot, same noise, same mother shouting,
'All of you are welcome back? '
All eyes still waiting for good news from the hills.

Many missions,
One mansion.

The mansion is not marble.
It is not far away.
It is this strong country,
This tired roof that leaks but still holds,
This name we abuse, but still answer when it calls.

We went out to find fortune,
We found ourselves.
We went out to escape home,
We built it elsewhere and called it home,
Only to remember -

Every road led out,
Every road led back.

Many missions, one mansion.
Many struggles, one shelter.
We may quarrel in the yard,
But we will fix the leaking roof together