by Sage Gabriel

 

Before my father’s house stands this castor bean tree,

My earliest memory was of it when I was three.

The rising sun then had not gone half the sky,

When papa tended it in its prime.

 

Insignificant!

I forgot the plant,

Time…

Fled past,

And age…

Its spell cast.

 

The White man’s wisdom took me away,

And far beyond my root I strayed.

The city estranged my dim past,

And I grew taller than a telegraph mast.

 

Nostalgia!

I missed the local beer.

Night…

Robbed my sleep .

And with day…

Did the memories keep,

 

I said to myself ‘Go home prodigal child’,

And I looked for the path to my village wild.

“Our son’s back” the gray hairs did hum,

When I presented the white man’s rum,

Augmented…

With palm wine highly rated.

 

The night…

Fled past ,

And age…

Backwards, slacked.

 

Much has changed, the drinking arena different,

For it was no more Mgborie’s hut that bred gadflies,

It was a big castor bean tree,

Whose big boughs spread like eagle’s wings,

 

Magnificent!

I looked up, silent,

This same tree…

My father trimmed.

Time fled past…

 

But the roots remain yet. 

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Sage Gabriel is a final year student at the University of Nigeria, Nsukka. A true lover of nature ,he basically exists in his own world. An appreciator of music, he loves to write about his musings on life and values.

30 Days, 30 Voices series is an opportunity for young Nigerians from across the world to share their stories and experiences – creating a meeting point where our common humanity is explored.

Op-ed pieces and contributions are the opinions of the writers only and do not represent the opinions of Y!/YNaija