Clothed in gold and dust
he appeared
hanging from a branch
on the great Baobab tree
He was hailed King
Chief and ruler of
every river
the sweet banana provider 
grandmother’s love
the fearless leader
who kept my grandma's heart
in place of his
with pride, she watched
as everyday he sang “Chop drink wata”
children and grandchildren
like a herd of cows
raising dust as we ran
to collect
our daily reward
echoing back
in joyous song “Hungry no good”
In that land
now sung into
far away memories
of drums and music
now buried in dark suns
that lost their shine the day you left
that foreign terrain
where grandfather now lays-
the man who held a village
on the tip of his tongue…
Have I lost you
Have you forgotten me
daughter of the Son
remind me
of nights
when crickets echoed
stories foretold
while Grandma
cooked up a storm
stews that kept
a house and made a home
for strangers far and near
made Grandpa jealous
and over protecting
”Go find your own woman”
sending them away like flies
from his delicious ‘Mbanga soup’
I remember
in the season of your rains
the clinging of cloth
on this pearly bronze skin
skins that mama made
from tears…
Give me back
what you once took from me
my afterbirth
washed in mother’s blood
Let me find a spot
worthy
of this chief’s princess
the one who replenished your land
of milk and honey and dust
I will return
to my glory
near the heart
of Africa
tucked
underneath its armpit
set my box
of life
revive your soul
and illuminate your sun.

(Cameroon is tucked underneath the armpit of the African map, that curve that gives Africa its shape...)

Copyright © 2008 by Bernice Angoh