That morning when the shriek cry of mama
Pierced the peace of a weird dawn
Asueke stood by my bed
Shaking my legs with feverish hands
Beckoning me to rise
Her face furrowed in agony
In some meaningless whispers
She mentioned your name and said nothing more
But I knew whatever she has to say
Her silence is nothing good

So I lobbied my way to your hut
A crowd flared with tears gathered at papa's yard
What news had awoken the land
To sit here on their mat of dirge

Some with both hands balanced on opened mouths
Some heads bowed in defeated sorrow
But in the center of your room
You lie on your termite bed without head
Your skin still glowed in its youth
Even though you are dismembered

Your soul is hurried from us
To lurk restlessly yonder
They say they picked you along Buamba's path
The path beyond the stream leading to the groove
Your head was found also in a bag hidden among bamboo clusters
The evil maniacs had placed their cursed hands
Upon your head flourishing with dreams

© Olatuja Oloyede
Find part 3