Are you not the son of Akbada

The tender-hearted man who;

Although he died a long time ago had only one hen.

Whenever it laid an egg hesitated not to share with the whole village.

When we saw you, we saw your father in you

The generosity and kind-heartedness

That you would follow his steps and bring change

We were tired of being played tee-a-tete

That was why we chose you

We did not care of how you side-walked your shoes

What you ate or wore

Everywhere you went you tried to enlighten part of us

Correcting the higher powers to disdain evil

our focus was on your mind

With all humility though, your face was buried in your hands

And you seemed to have bewitched us

Your words were like that of a god

With authority you seemed to shun evil

Taking to afar place our mind

Building castles of the good life to come

causing our children to dream that;

Unemployment, poverty, corruption would be history

But after all demons are not born; demons are made

Where are your dreams?

Not more than as good as dead.

In our lips it was only you

Our women danced at your appearance

And when you won;

We sang, we danced, we cried that our saviour had arrived

It was like rouse; the whole village was in a jamboree

And you re-assured the fulfilment of our dreams.

Not until the demon possessed you

Not until you had a taste of the honey

And when you realized that the honeycomb would not dry

You forgot about yourself

That it was us who took you there

You started living in Sheraton and driven in huge cars

Black suited with Swiss bank account holders

The village that was once your home became a foreign land

Walking, eating, wearing, friends all changed

And you considered us like chaff sieved in the wind.


4 comments on “THE SON OF AKBADA

  1. A poem criticizing our leaders who after we have elected them, start living a different life not fulfilling the promises they made forgetting that it was our votes that took them to where they are now.

  2. Pingback: THE SON OF AKBADA | cidnicinite

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