Titilope Sonuga

1985 / Lagos

Pandemic

It is this deep, dark, empty thing
caught between chest and throat
begging lips for relief in words.
The noise of 2 million heavy sighs

Our mother is dying
the one who bore us all
she lays in squalor and
we all pretend we never heard her fall

It is the regret of unsaid farewells
It is tongues caught mid sentence
Quick whispered goodbyes
Tears frozen in eyes, too young still
quiet prayer, cast up in desperation

This steady rumble
commands our attention,
calls us from our apathy
Sudan, Uganda, Kenya,
Rwanda, Zimbabwe, Ethiopia,
Nigeria

Our mother is dying
the one who held us in her green and red and gold

It is motherless children
Cries un-soothed
Bottomless grief
It is stolen childhood
interrupted hop-scotch, freeze tag, hide and seek
cold and bleak

It is broken promises
Naïve trust
Gross mis-education

It is dreams unfulfilled
Stories left unfinished
Hope snatched from weary hands
Eyes deep with despair

This is not, sit and wait
Maybe later
This is not, so far away
Maybe some other day
It is today, it is today
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