Umuezukwe, My Darly Home (To Rachiel Akuba) Poem by Eche Ononukwe

Umuezukwe, My Darly Home (To Rachiel Akuba)



Travelling from Onitsha to Owerri;
yeah, from Owerri to Onitsha,
what will you see?
Hey, a small rich town,
near the Njaba River;
of course, my darly home, Awo-Omamma;
Awo-Omamma, the daughter of Awo-Idemili,
from where my people originally migrated,
searching for a drink, as we're told.

O Umuezukwe, my love!
Hearken to what my people,
some of Your seeds call You,
refusing to return to Your pampering hands,
fearing Your warm embrace!

They, including brother Rachiel Akuba,
say You're black,
bewitching Your own fruits;
they say You're wierd,
harbouring the Afo, our Great Shrine,
barricading Your fruits' fortunes,
as our Christian brethren make us believe;
they also call You a monkey-surrounded village,
just cos our aged customs claim
that we each have a fair share of these monkeys,
symbolizing us, Your our seeds!

You, who the spirit of an ancient woman protects,
I idolize You!
You filled with oil of Niger Delta,
when the foreign oil-tapster had Your body drilled.
I hail You!
You, whose Oguta Lake runs through,
giving Your fruits a stream to drink from,
I, your prodigal son, salute Your Magesty,
among the other twelve daughters of Your Mother!

True, You home the Afo Shrine,
Your ancient monkeys are but a good tourist sight,
uplifting Your economy and employing Your seeds,
when the day dawns!

O Great Afo, how that Your chief priest
like the Great Priest of Heaven,
collecting no bribe, and fair to all that calls!


Alas, alas, my love,
for Your fruits are black,
I mean some are bewitching,
scaring away their own kins;
O that they really love one another!

O Mother, there're no mother
anywhere without a bad egg!
But I see a prophecy comes near,
a good one to be welcomed,
though I know not what it's all about!

Now, I lie in Your warmth, waiting
for Your Muse,
when my pens shall echoe
Your young still voice to the whole world to hear!

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