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LONG BYES

My watch speaks.
2am.
Each hour is a long, dreary year. I am leaning to trace the pain of imperfect glasses.
I am shutting my eyes in painful memories to recall the bullets that tore at our dreams.
Opened deep wells to our Promises.
Boro, Theo, other Political Fathers are watching them drown at dawn. .
The elections are over.
3am
When is it okay to go out the streets?
And not see restless blackened souls pulling at your bags.
Stinking with late night smokes and draining boozes.
“Your bags, give us your phone!”
3:15am
The walls of my stomach are rebellious, fighting the starving hours of yesterday and the miserable pieces of two days.
There’s the noisy butterflies that remind me of affection.
Pain and ice.
“Where is Ada now?”
Her crumpled figure against the wall resurrects, breaking me.
“I have to leave the country, Ada and I will come back for you”
Her eyes were hollow with sadness “You will not”
I have stopped saying my prayers since then.
4am
Mother stirs from sleep, and breathes her prayers on my head.
“Peace, Peace. Favour”.
Are these blessings or girls? I wander off.
5am
I am dragging my box, with Gabriel trailing behind in tears.
I want to make him promises of money and my definite return.
But I am truly gone.
And even Mother knows this.

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3 comments

Gottfried May 1, 2019 at 5:52 am

“Peace, peace favor, are these blessings or girls?”

Forgive me for finding this bit hilarious. Igbo people bear all sorts of names. 😂😂😂

Reply
Deborah Nwanguma May 1, 2019 at 7:31 am

Like eh 😂 😂

Tell me about it. I’m glad I escaped it ni. Ah 😋

Reply
Daniel Olemrabe Kelly May 16, 2019 at 1:49 am

Are you gone for real?

Reply

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