Thursday, 2 July 2015

Code Biafran Parents

Photo Credit: Thomas Victor.com
The death of his father opened a can of worms
Both his parents were of the Biafran babies’ saga
His aunties suddenly were no longer his
Cousins who had things in common with him suddenly seemed like strangers
Everyone acted as if all were still normal
But he couldn’t help the feeling of being out of place


He was just like a common foreigner
Like the loud Nigerians next door
His journalist instinct was on the alert; he wouldn’t let this pass
Slept little, researched more until he came across a man with answers for people like him
Off he went to the most populous black nation clutching the answers he had discovered
His now strange family oblivious of the journey into uncertainty

As his plane lands in the city known for her coal
A tight knot develops in his belly
His palms sweats, his heart flutters with fear and excitement
He looks around this new place, supposedly his origin
It was dreadfully quiet; the people spoke in lowly tunes
They were unlike his loud foreign neighbours at Port Gentil
He forces his legs to move; the uncertainties must not stop him

He was not there for acceptance
His journey was the making of a lifetime story
A story that was sure to take him up the ladder at La Lowe Newspaper

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