I am a Soldier
June 1999, I wore a crown of death and life.
It was like yesterday I joined them
In a jungle of war. I turned back to see my blood -- my sister;
I abandoned the prostrations, my tradition, and
My arms embraced salutes -- a soldier I am. I remember
How you soaked your eyes between life and death; how
Your eyes were in the midst of anxiety. I remember how
I held you closer for the last time and picked up my iroko, an agent of death.
Mummy, reveal my story as folktales to the baby(ies) in your womb.
Tell her or him or them that this is how time flies:
How I mixed emotions and joys at the barrack, jungles, and elsewhere.
When I read through your pictures on my soul, My heart pounces, “Farewell.”
My Dear Father,
I was a judge, I signed my death sentence on a white sheet.
I am a warrior, ready for the green light of the sun, ready
For the first rain of the year, ready for the first harmattan
To face your enemies. You have given me the swords of
Confidence, I shall ask about the death of grandpa. Do not be a coward,
Submit your tears in prayer. For, I shall look and mock my death sentence.
If I die here or there, my corpse is a will to Mummy and Daddy.
Wheel me into my hometown, where I first cried. I want
To sleep there, and become a tourist attraction to the children
In the folklores of my land.
Wahab Raheem is a writer and a poet, he writes different short stories and poems. He currently works as a fact researcher for the people's check organisation, you can follow him @abdul_wahabraheem on Instagram Twitter @wahab talkz
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