Okukor

Photo: Dušan veverkolog

Entombed in a hall,

the statue’s beak appears

to droop forlornly.

So far away from home, I muse.

If it could, I guess it would

ponder on a distant past

when once it crowed

as dawn entered the courtyard.

Wings back, head high,

Okukor would heave

his crimson hackles

and stride haughtily

across the clearing.

His weight, perfectly balanced

on thin hind shanks,

red crown fluttering,

there was a breeze that day.

The day the Oba’s artisan

began to model Okukor

using his fine metal comb.

The artisan’s eyes sketched

elegant tail plumes

that seemed to glow

turquoise, gold, and blue.

Okukor stopped pecking

and raised his head

as though looking for his hens,

careful to remain in profile.

He relaxed,

moved less cautiously,

stretched his wings wide,

letting the light soak his down,

Okukor knew his worth.

He even remained silent

when later the axe pierced

his neck for royal sacrifice.

But this was not the end.

For, in the beginning,

Oduduwa, the divine king

descended from the heavens

carrying Okukor under his arm.

The cock’s beak scratched

and pecked the Earth

to forge the hills and valleys

of the sixteen kingdoms.

Creator.

Mythmaker.

Okukor– Cambridge

cannot tame you.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Efua is a British-Ghanaian writer and educator, currently studying English and Creative Writing in the UK.