Do You Know Why They Have Lost Their Voices?

(In Condemnation of *BABA)

 Whatever happened to the cicadas which once

disturbed our mid-day sun with their endless shrills;

Whatever happened to the talking parrots of the rainforest

and the hooting owl of the Savanna

and the cooing dove of **Okipu?

Whatever happened to the roaring lions prowling about;

Whatever happened to the elephant tetrarch of the jungle,

dreaded tree feller of the rainforest?

Whatever happened to the leopards

which once kept the python in check;

What, what, what?

Whatever happened to the sniffer dogs

which once kept off intruders from far-off land?

Whatever happened to the village cocks

which once crowed and crowed keeping

every villager awake all night?

Whatever happened to the hyena

which once wailed and wailed

and refused to be comforted?

O' whatever happened to the vicious serpent

and the poisonous rattle snake;

the village iguana whose appearance in the day

sent cold shivers down the spine of the whole village?

Whatever happened to the village cats

that constantly mewed and mewed?

Whatever happened to all those super-eruptive

volcanoes spewing skyward their molten lava

and magmas forcing up always the king's adrenalin?

Whatever happened to the diving hawks

which kept the chicks and the king in constant trepidation?

But where have all the roaring lions gone?

And where are the wandering leopards;

the singing canaries and the noisy weaver birds

and the talking parrots?

Where have the crowing cocks gone,

the mewing cats, the rattle snakes

and the vicious cobras?

Where to have all the barking dogs disappeared;

the elephant king of the jungle, the wailing hyena

and the howling wolves?

And where are all the village town criers,

who do bear us ancestral messages?

Just where have they all gone;

Hibernating and anxiously waiting for the game to be shared?

But if they did not partake of the sharing,

will they ever cry out again?

And will the talking parrots, the chirping canaries

the hooting owls, the noisy weaver birds and the cicadas

ever keep us wide awake again in this morgue of a nation

And graveyard of a country?

Will they?

But will the town criers ever cry out again?

 

       -  JOHN ODEY ADUMA

                   MAY 2015.

*Bread and Butter Activists whose stock in trade is to criticise and be invited to partake of the ‘national cake’ in Abuja.

*A farmland in Okpoma, the Headquarters of the present Yala Local Government Area, made famous by the poet’s father, Adamede Ogri, a legendary farmer and clan head.

 

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