POETRY: Mama Africa’s Cry – by Kolawole Ayinuola
In the thick darkness of the deserted savannah,
A thin cry pierces the deafening silence
As a bereaved mother weeps for her only son,
Behold Mama Africa’s cry for her beloved children
With her blessings we departed long ago,
Making heartfelt promises of a glorious return
But like prodigal sons, we have long forgotten,
Disregarding the womb that birthed the dreams we followed
We have left her desolate, her heart weary with expectations
She calls out to the corners of the earth, crying
‘When will I see the sons of my womb?’
Her wounded heart beckons to the whirlwind, Ajakubo
‘Will my daughters ever rest on these breasts that nurtured them?!’
But all she hears is silence – for no one knows
None can tell her, and her tears remain her song
Over clear blue seas and the highest of hills her cry has travelled
Sons and daughters of Africa, lend a ear to your mother’s plea
Mend her roof as well as her heart
Kolawole, bring home the wealth you promised that she may eat,
Let her revel in the knowledge you have traveled so far to acquire
And with open arms, cry out to her: ‘Mama, your children are back to mend your heart.’
Kolawole Ayinuola
