The days have raged like an angry storm
Young men have taken to beer and rum
The feet of the old are pale and numb
Dreams washed away in the fiery tide
Like life has taken us on a ride
Through hardship, loss and trying times
There’s no strength left to stage a fight
All that’s left are falling rhymes
It’s not too late to start again
The sun will smile at us someday
Remember those days when the land was young
We taught our children right from wrong
Those precious times did not last long
Now all the land is filled with dung
On the altar of filth, our values hung
They insulted us and refused our songs
We saw it coming but could not run
He who has a home should not have to roam
Even though the skies appear so gray
The sun will smile at us someday
Let us put away the thoughts of doom
This land of gloom will one day bloom
In the heat and cold, we daily toiled
Our last days shall be greased with oil
Through the rumbling cracks I hear your voice
Our struggles for them will not be void
This long journey should end in joy
We might not live to watch the bud
Let’s hope that they remember us
When the sun smiles on the land again
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Chuks Obi is a law student at the University of Ibadan. He writes poems and articles which have been published in different magazines and online publishing sites. He strongly believes in the power of the pen as a tool to make the world a better place.
It had been an hour since the little man came out of the cemetery and sat on that bench at the entrance. In silence, he was looking at the people passing. Despite his tender and charming smile, nobody was looking at him; he even called some with their names, but they did not bother looking at him. Seconds, minutes, hours passed. Still nobody taking the time to check on him. They all seemed busy in their minds running to more attracting pleasures; when children had wanted to come and have a moment with him, elders were always there to hold them back.
He was seven years old, and dressed like the son of a peasant. Despite his unattractive appearance, he looked in perfect health. He did not seem lost, and no father and no mother was looking after him. A “happy orphan”, he could have said to be.
Early in the afternoon, he was still there, looking and smiling charmingly at people; no food had he eaten, and no water had he drunk. Nevertheless he was smiling. Time passed and a dove, unexpectedly, landed on his left shoulder at the same moment a little girl came to him. She was so shy that she quietly sat on his right. The boy turned to her with that same friendly smile;
– Why? he asked.
She looked at him with those deep brown eyes and shrugged.
– There come your parents. You’d better go now.
She briefly looked at her family showing disappointment, and shrugged again.
– Why? she asked in her turn.
– Because of you, he answered.
– Where is your mother?
– You are the one.
Hope is here
The little girl smiled wider. «Come on Divine! What are you doing here alone?» said the father angry. «It’s been hours that we’ve been looking for you…» her mother was almost devastated; but she was happy to see her daughter fine and safe.
None of the elders cared for the little boy with the dove on his shoulder. Divine wanted to say a word, but her parents did not let her do. They were already taking her away. She tried, but they would not even listen, so she kept quiet. She turned round and she only had time to see the boy and the dove vanishing like smoke in the air. They were gone.
When she got home, Divine told her grandmother about the little boy and the dove.
– Thank you my God. Your Name shall always be glorified.
And the same night, the old woman closed her eyes forever. A few minutes before, she told her daughter: «Divine is the next dawn…» Obviously, Divine’s mother did not get those words. She discussed it with her husband, who did not succeed giving a helpful explanation. They finally gave up.
Years passed and Divine grew older. She became an influent woman, internationally renowned for her programmes to educate poor children, and give them an opportunity to take part in the building of a wonderful future for Africa.
So many times, she returned to that bench where she met the little boy and the dove; but never again did she see him. Though she was still feeling his presence, she did not see him again.
The morning of her death, her grandson came to her with an incredible story. «Grandma, I met a little girl today…»
– She was well dressed, and she had a dove on her right shoulder. Right? Divine added.
– Grandma… How… How do you know?
– Your heart is great. Always listen to that little voice.
And Divine told her son: «Listen to Victor. Let him be the light in this tunnel.»
About the author
My name is Théodore René Ndebi, born in Cameroon. I graduated in Banking Management. But what really makes me proud and happy is WRITING !!!!! I started writing around 1990. I write the most I can. I mostly write for children’s future. As a child I had always dreamt of a world where poor children and orphans could be happy as well. I have many unpublished collections in French: Chaque Jour Un Poème, Rêve D’un Soir, La Missive Du Petit Prince, Suis-Je Assez Bien Pour Toi… I’m also author of unpublished novels in French (Cierge Noir, Plus Violent Que L’amour, Les Fruits De La Tempête…) My first published novel THE LAST GHOST/Son Of Struggle got published in 2013 by AuthorhouseUK; it appears in the LOS Angeles Times Festival Of Books Catalogue 2014 Page 8. Available online @ Amazon, Kindle, AuthorhouseUK, Barnes & Noble, Indie… I wrote numerous award winning texts. Book Reviewer and Translator. Member of OneAfricanChild since 2013. Co-Founder of Le Salon Du Livre Yaounde-Cameroon.
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