The Silence Beneath The Baobab

Beneath the adulterated shade of the baobab,
I live a child of sorrow, destined to linger in shadows.
Your hands, Father, resembled the dry harmattan,
Scraping at my soul and draining my existence.

You moved like a lion under the shroud of night.
Not in pursuit of prey but rather where innocence resided.
Your voice hissed like a coiled mamba lurking nearby
Its venomous threats suffocated my fear.

Mama’s eyes were clouded, much like the mist at dawn,
Taken away in her toils with millet and yams.
She sang beside the fire, and her gaze averted,
While I struggled in storms that no words could adequately convey.

I was the yam buried deep in the ground,
Cracked, bruised but making no sound.
Your shadow, a famine that darkened the sun,
Left me wilted and too weak to run.

The kola nut you chewed stained your teeth,
But your heart, father, was the bitter sheath.
I carried my anguish like a calabash immersed with disgrace,
Balancing silence that is tethered to the trace of your name.

The moon observed its light casting shadows,
While the wind whispered secrets too faint to be liberated.
The ancestors turned away, expressing their bitter disdain.
Their bones trembled under the immense weight of shame.

Where were you, Mama, when my soul was sold?
When his hands turned my warmth to cold?
You fed me fufu but starved me of care
You built a home but left demons there.

I prayed to the gods under the iroko tree
But even the spirits stayed deaf to me.
The drums of the village told no tales
Of the child trapped in a lion’s den.

Now, I walk with the wind as my only kin.
A ghost of the girl who could not win.
To daughters with stories buried in clay
Speak, before silence takes you away.

To fathers who change their comforts into pains
Your daughters’ cries shall echo through the darkness.
The earth retains its accounts, and the rivers will seethe.
You cannot escape the imprints you have inflicted.

Let the baobab stand as a fearless witness,
No child ought to fade away where they rightfully belong.
Africa, arise: allow your spirit to awaken,
Protect your daughters and never forget to dry every tear.