My country pays off as a barren mother
Photo: Aarón Blanco Tejedor
My country is a praying woman
Whose heart is a beautiful home
As other mother held their baby like wishes
She went to the outskirts of her town
She stood like a ship atop a stream
And kept her eyes open for her running tears
God felt the sadness sedated in those tears
And a voice breathed into her a holy child
Like Jesus, in the eyes of his mother
God eased her pregnancy difficulties
provided her nourishing food
And eased her delivery
After the birth of her son like a miracle
The child grew up to be the pleasure of her eyes
She held her child with love and laughter
Then ingratitude struck her like a charm
She tortured the child and pressed hardship into his skin
She sucked joy out of his veins
She fed the child sorrow
Made him drink to stupor the waters of clinical depression
Hurled curses at him like he were a bastard
Heaven watched as the boy’s dreams were littered like garbage
As guns laid them lifeless like clothes that fell off iron wires
The land drank blood till it begged for no more
Grief became the desire of her body
Slit a portion of her skin with a blade
Left her body like suya on the street
Yesterday, news of bleeding heads
Today, running noses clogged with blood
Tomorrow, the child will be offered
As a sacrifice to the hungry gods
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Ariyo Ahmad is a Nigerian poet from Ogun state. He has poems published or forthcoming in Icefloe press, Kalahari Review, Iman collective, Native skin lit Mag, Rigorous, Ngiga review, Nymphs, Olney, African Writers Magazine, to mention but few.
He was an honourable mention in the Fitrah Review Contest (2021) and also the poetry editor for Fiery Scribe Review. When he is not writing, he finds himself relishing Khalil Gibran's poem. He tweets @ahmad_akanni.
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