BORNO (A Poem) by Mujahyd Ameen Lilo

Adamu, write me not of the
chameleonic nature of Lagos
nor of its seeming a spiderweb
Not of the twin hills in Kano
and how Harmattan veils their heads with dust
Not of the River Niger, its waves
and how the sun falls across it
Not of the smell of Biafra that clung to
the Nsukka air
Write me not verses that will fill my tongue
with taste of the green grasses in Plateu
not of the Jewel in the Savannah, where you slid
out, where your umbilical code was buried
and your foreskin, too
where you first parroted ABC and Alif, Bah, Tah
Write not that, Adamu
Let your pen sway to the wind whipping Borno
Write me of Borno, Adamu
About its sub-Saharan nature
its August that is greenish
with spirogyra sprouting on uncemented walls
Its January that is brownish
Its dry season that comes
insatiable and proud like a dictator’s belly
drinking up all rivers
killing all plants
tightening the air in its fist
forcing bleaching cream on the trees
before the rainy season arrives
tying wrapper around its waist
and kicks it (dry season) out
Write me about how it now becomes a house where ghosts play hide and seek,
and spiders weave webs.

 

Mujahyd Ameen Lilo writes from Kano Nigeria.

 

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