Page 51 - Msingi Afrika Magazine Issue 8
P. 51

CUMMUNITY
          Treasure Trove

          A poem by Peter Okocha


          The sun had completed it’s cycle, triggering the rainforest’s regeneration
          A treasure chest comprising of the finest nutrients and minerals had been lifted up and poured into the soil
          below


          The flora in response, surged upwards with vigour, and exhibited richness of colours akin to a painter’s palette

          Nature’s marker had signaled to the rainforest’s human dwellers that it was now time to manicure this vast lush
          food garden once again


          Medicinal plants, edible fruits and savory wine and rich oil from the palm were gathered, shared and con-
          sumed


          The men cleared and plowed
          The women and children planted
          Harvest was a collective prize

          Food was in abundance and excess stored, reaching heights resembling our tall sacred monuments
          Awash with such wealth we in turn built great thriving empires

          Then out of nowhere, a disease spread across our land
          Our rainforests were hacked down with ferocity; no longer being accorded the time to regenerate
          The treasure chest of nutrients and minerals could no longer replenish itself and began to dwindle with each
          successive pour

          Whilst working the earth beneath our feet
          We looked up in horror as mysterious dark plumes of smoke began to cover our beloved sun
          The scent and touch of the rain that we had become so accustomed to was no longer the same
          Crop production drastically reduced
          Our monuments caved in from their hollowness
          And the pangs of hunger was felt by all

          Oil, the blood of our ancestors, was sacrilegiously exploited and consumed and was given precedence over
          food
          A curse took hold
          Division set in
          And empires began to fold

          We in turn lost sense of self and purpose
          And abandoned our rainforested land
          Like herded cattle we crowded round tight spaces, with buckets in our outstretched hands hoping to catch a
          tiny droplet of the black gold trickling out from the tap above

          And here we find ourselves today


          We must get back to growing our own food
          Rediscovering ourselves and restoring pride
          It is only then that we can rebuild and surpass what we once had










          WWW.MSINGIAFRIKAMAGAZINE.COM                                            ISSUE 8 | SEPT/OCT 2020  51
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