AKAMMAM’S CUE


Like a brute set free
But with a countenance contrite and pleading
As calm as the dimples on a infants cheek
It makes an esteemed outing
Silently gliding down the line
Greenness glittering with the radiance
Of the hot noonday sun
It came still demanding welcome
Nibbling at the seams of our fragile hearts
Attempting to tear open its sacs of emotions
Evoking fear and stirring adherents
Into a nasty awakening
What’s the message this time?
Ignoring our brewing tears and questions

Aka! Harbinger of a mores of deities
Heirloom of Mmam
Still sleek and lithe, innocent
Moves- sliding beneath curtains
Peeping into the keyholes of our awe struck minds
Its messages lashes out
Reaffirming norms, shredding evil stereotypes
And leaves in its wake uneaten sacrifices

Its raises its tiny head
As if in search of a dissenter
Demanding obeisance and reverence
From spittle dripping, gourd -bellied children
And arthritic old coots
Everyone stood, transfixed
Trying to decipher the mystique
In its glistening cold eyes
And the slow peristaltic movement
Of its slender throat
As it swallows Grandma’s yam balls

Starting with a rhythmic pulsation
Its forked tongue flicks in farewell
In symphony with
The frantic beats of our own hearts
As it went the way it came
Down the paths of the spirits
Leaving us to ponder
The message in Akammam’s cue

©Endi

Port Harcourt,

May, 2004.