Daddy’s tale
They cry for a future
They never tried planning
We canvas for a secluded state
With hands at akimbo
Our fathers knew what they saw
With their head without hairs
And their protruded black tummy
Taking shape like volley ball
Father spoke on how they feasted on every red hair reptile
That survived daily dose of shelling
He spoke of flying metals
Dropping big balls of gun powder
While a shrapnel took away Dede’s head
Father was barely a boy
With rifle as his first toy
He told tales in tears
Of pain, hunger and flaming cock
Of greed escorting lads to see God prematurely
And hands held high in surrender
Tales of folks falling in love
While a bullet severed that same love
Of rebels hanged on gallows
While our angels in white
Shut the windows of their cloudy house
He saw young men in gross darkness
Throwing away their humanity to lean dogs
While they feasts on a babe
That speaks with the same mother tongue
Father told tales of yesterday
How his hands froze when he took his first squeeze
And a body dropped in response to his trigger
He spoke of death, hunger and blood
Drowning the streets of Ojukwu’s country
While vultures feast all night
Killing themselves with red wine and dirty carcasses
Uncle Dede slept headless
Facing judgment without a head
Some went without bowels
While others traveled to heaven without limbs
Achebe never stopped writing
About butterflies at crossroads
And the original hunger games
