My
homeland, my fatherland
settles
on the valley of two breasts,
a
virgin to behold,
two
sisters lead to her,
Akpa-Edem
and Ozi-Edem
I am
proud of her greenish status,
far
from fraud of fertility,
far
from loud mouth of noises,
nor
nameless crimes-germination,
and
infectivity of experimentation
The
moonlight outshines the streetlights,
as
her brood listens to tales of nurture
and
the beat of the invisible drummer,
dancers,
to the songs of nature,
with
endless joy.
Edem-Ani
is indeed a beauty.
Like
the Garden of Eden,
Her
fruit-trees are the sweetest
Ground
on the toiled black soil;
her
sweetest ujuru and ogbono seeds,
the
awesome flavor of her redish-akwu.
Oh,
my grey aged great-grandfather's childhood!
Look
at her black nakedness!
Wrap
with warmness
Why,
your color has not changed?
Walls,
the wet red clay,
Cooler
than the air conditioners.
Woe
is me! White civilization,
to
steal offspring from kinky hairs.
Yet,
at dark corners,
warm
voices of flat-breast women
firm
black skins with strong ankles
Chat
joyfully on the return
of
their grandchildren.
They
said you are poor.
They
boast of long houses and frozen paths.
I do
not know what is poor.
I
know the roots of your trees are valuable,
your
quiet and purple silence is an asset,
birds,
on the thatched roofs, are tourist attraction,
©
Edith Uchenna
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