Mother's love shown so freely
As, she walks through the market place
child without a care
bound at her side
lie's nursing in rhythm of each stride.
No worry, no need for excitement,
As, suckling child is fulfilled.
From within a mother glows
no need for charts and books
for this Mother to monitor growth.
Life so simple and blessed with freedom
who are we to challenge
with our modern structure of life?
Throughout the cycle of life
these Mothers and children have lived
through such strife.
We can learn from their ease and concern
life goes on even though we think we've learned
all there is to know in our modern world of squirm.
Kaduna Faluni Market 2/1998**********************************************
Hausa Market Man
He sat there on his knee,
visiting others and eager to please.
The day was hot,
dust was plenty.
Not a breeze in the air,
not even a tease to relieve the depair.
As we passed through this ancient mall
The mystery of a soul reached out to me,
Still, I remember the stares that drew me.
Body lean and strong
he stood, his height made all seem small.
Turban atop log braided hair,
Dirty, sandaled feet standing there.
Jacket by standard unknown to him,
too small and needing a hem.
Yet, his haute couture sheltered him,
within those ancient walls
of Kano's old city market walls.
2/1998*********************************************************
The Old Fulani
Peering into her black eyes helped me to see life, as it must be.
Loving, knowing and daring she stood there wondering of me.
Those weathered hands so sturdy, so strong and free
I wondered what, if that were me?
Her old body straight as can be,
Carries her wares atop her head each market day
Now she sits under the shade of a Bilboa tree.
Tribal tattoos, traditional garb,
a beautiful smile shows she's ever so true.
As she sells those woven wares of indigo blue.
Never were we strangers or separated by class ,
As our eyes met with approval and sureness
that respect was amass.
Bida 2/1998*********************************************************
Christmas in Paradise
'Twas a few weeks before Christmas and all through the village
All the creatures were stirring, positioning for the pillage.
Operation Sweep was out with a flare,
Ten deep in their Peugeots, they dared.
Machine gun in arms, with loving care,
Sending the message if needed, soon they could be there.
Keeping the island safe from the bro,
Who were lurking in darkness waiting for the ex-pats to go.
Teachers and parents were toasting
each other to safe travels and good health
each other to safe travels and good health
As school would soon be out,
at noon on Friday the twelfth.
at noon on Friday the twelfth.
As the travelers entered wearily,
for the hours that lay ahead.
for the hours that lay ahead.
The expediters waiting at Murtala Mohammed,
held high their heads.
held high their heads.
No Donner, no Blitzen, just Precious and Sunday,
And for sure a Friday and a Monday.
I beg-o master what have you for me this season,
I, but a small boy, want only that, within reason...
One by one the passengers they load,
Off to safari grandeur and humble abodes.
With a gin and tonic in hand,
now settling back in their seats
now settling back in their seats
They knew it was only, just for three weeks.
The captain announced doors full automatic,
The smiles were gleaming, the passengers ecstatic.
Up, up, up they rose, through the Harmatan's glow.
As they looked out their windows,
On the darkest of African nights,
They knew without a doubt NEPA was without light.
Anywhere else the talk would be of the market, snow, and Noel,
Here in Paradise we only wish and pray for diesel and fuel.
1997
**********************************************************************
************************************************************************
Saying Goodbye
With the hustle and bustle of Lagos in full gear,
Soon it will the end of another school year.
notices of transfers flying with friends moving out,
We realized soon our turned was in no doubt.
Scattered around the globe
Off to Virginia, Naples, Caracus and other abodes.
How will we cope if you are not here,
having your parties with such dashing flair.
Who will take your place, will we like them
Or should we start saying grace!
No one can take your place, nor should they try
There's enough room in a friends heart
for all to squeeze in and take a part.
Remembering now and then all the margarita's back then,
Now don't you forget when making new friends
All of us you left in Lagos
Sipping our tonic and gin.
Worrying of Malaria, coupe attempts,
elections, fuel shortages and those quarterly blues.
The last laugh is on those who never came
or whom left without a clue.
You are welcome in paradise and enjoy while you can.
So, whereever life's journey takes you and your kin
rmember the go slows, NEPA, Nitel and those frequent jaunts to the loo.
'Cause we all will be thinking of you!
1998
************************************************************************
Lagos in My Rearview Mirror
They come and they, but it takes a special one to know
that beauty is in the eye of the beholder,
knowing that Panalpina is coming to fill out our folder.
419 is that our house number?
Trust your instincts as you go
Don't let your guard down or they'll know
With those wise words of advice,
It's hard to believe that some have lived here twice.
It seems as though it were yesterday, that long hot wait
At the Murtala Mohammed gate.
Where's the expediter that we were to meet?
Doesn't he know who we are?
Can't they follow instructions?
I'm tired with things to do,
Let the kids hang on you...
Oh, what a zoo.
Paper work all in order, visa, passport, letter of introduction,
Honey, is this place under construction?
As "you are welcome" echoes through,
Seems friendly enough I'll make do.
Just as warned, "what have you for me"
Is their way of saying "glad tidings from thee".
My wish for you on this day,
Is long life and good health,
Lots of children, wives, and wealth.
The drive in was nice with those kerosene lantern lights,
How colonial, just like in a novel, not knowing
The darkness spared us from the sights,
Honey, was there a war here?
Once settled, which wasn't long
I knew my journey would make me strong.
With the memories of what's your last price,
Never again can I pay fullprice,
Or worry about the children when the school warns of lice.
Never thought about the malls
What a trade-off, business cards, full calendars, and balls,
Lekki, Balogun, Jankara, Yabba markets,
and as well all of those signs on the walls.
After slowing down from being dizzy,
Back home I'm asked over and over again,
How do you keep busy?
Do not here, do not there,
man must ease himself, but where?
Port-a-potty?
Sorry-o, we live in land of plenty
at the edge of the road.
The buses, the people, the prayers,
I even got past their stares.
Oh, the trips to the villages that graced us,
With those smiles and beautiful loving faces.
With Falamo Bridge and my favorite go slows,
How can I possibly live in "civilization" again?
Who will cook, clean and drive me?
Oh, dear Lord please guide me...
This tropical paradise of ours
with tennis, golf, and flowers.
Those forever stretching beautiful beaches,
And oh, those long boring speeches!
Coming here, I've not lost
Now, I know who's boss.
God Bless Nigeria
1997************************************************************************
Saying Goodbye
With the hustle and bustle of Lagos in full gear,
Soon it will the end of another school year.
notices of transfers flying with friends moving out,
We realized soon our turned was in no doubt.
Scattered around the globe
Off to Virginia, Naples, Caracus and other abodes.
How will we cope if you are not here,
having your parties with such dashing flair.
Who will take your place, will we like them
Or should we start saying grace!
No one can take your place, nor should they try
There's enough room in a friends heart
for all to squeeze in and take a part.
Remembering now and then all the margarita's back then,
Now don't you forget when making new friends
All of us you left in Lagos
Sipping our tonic and gin.
Worrying of Malaria, coupe attempts,
elections, fuel shortages and those quarterly blues.
The last laugh is on those who never came
or whom left without a clue.
You are welcome in paradise and enjoy while you can.
So, whereever life's journey takes you and your kin
rmember the go slows, NEPA, Nitel and those frequent jaunts to the loo.
'Cause we all will be thinking of you!
1998
************************************************************************
