Written by Bada Yusuf Amoo

I’m at ease with the open field

Making friends with the skin piercing breeze

Nursed by mosquitoes

And through my feeble mind

Weird thoughts turned into wishes

I wish I was my parents

Whose bodies simply morphed to powders

As they tried to save our baby

The day fire came visiting


Or maybe uncle whose agile body suddenly turned limp

As he tried to save my sister

From being raped by masked men

Till her life went traveling with the ferryman


Leaving me alone… O my God!

My tear-duct runs on empty

See my harrowed face, chapped lips

Sapless arms, all fixed on a hunger chiseled frame

Unfed and bare!


I long daily for death

To feel the warmth of its palms

That has more potency than balms

For it’s not death- a mere passage

That really scares me

But what ‘life’ has become and will still be

Should I breathe more

About the author

Bada Yusuf Amoo