Old time Nwantintin

Recently a friend of mine  http://www.facebook.com/nuggetzman on Facebook wrote this statement [Churches in val mood. Red hearts and roses hanging on church walls. Churches are hosting red carpets and comedy shows today and 2mrw. Naija xtian no fit come last. But is romantic love anytin African? Ever saw or seen our parents kiss in public?]

And it made me think back to my parents, they met and married in the UK and are staunch members of Deeper Life Church but they loved and showed that love daily. They kissed especially when leaving or returning to the house and just sometimes to show affection. It wasn't done in public, in public they showed their love in a different way, the way they looked after each other, respected each other. I learnt the gentle, quiet, beautiful and sublime love from them and its what I want.

Flowers, chocolates and presents are all good but nothing beats the gentle trust and assurance that you are loved no matter what. That is what every right thinking person wants. That is what I want. and if wanting that means waiting a little bit more, then it would be totally worth it. 
So for everyone who gets that look or question of 'when are you next', I say don't sell out, hold on, with God on your side, you'll overcome.
So thinking of the old time love, I post this poem and say to you all Happy Valentine. God bless.

First published on 3rd December 2010


The Return 



I will meet you at the path

with the best of nkpokiti dances

Ululating your ancestral names, so your father’s line

can hear and be proud

I’m aiming for the back-hairs at your neck,

hoping they encourage your head to swell


Then I’ll lead you up the cement steps,

into the house, strip off your dust weary clothes,

chanting the songs you suckled to, remind you of your mother’s smell

Lead you in to the bathroom where

a pail of warm water awaits, and as you pour,

I’ll wash your back with black soap and tickles


Then clean and fresh, you sit before pounded yam

with fresh fish soup and as you eat, I’ll recall songs

that will transport you to the fields of nostalgia

When you finish, I’ll await your burp of satisfaction,

show you the raffia chair prepared for your resting


And as you lie content, I’ll lay my head on

your lap and rub your stomach

The trees and winds joining the gentle chant

of my heart-mine, mine, mine.