THIS WAS THE POEM RECITED IN THE STATE KALOLSAVAM 2019 BY ANGEL BENNY OF KASARAGOD DISTRICT. CAN ANY ONE SEND US THE POEMS RECITED BY STUDENTS REPRESENTING THE OTHER DISTRICTS ?
Homeward
01/13/2004
Today, I remember my grandmother
As she attempts to connect with her second children
she finds the only english words she knows
from somewhere hidden in the belly of her 4 foot 9 inch body
and instead of awonke she greets us with "bye bye"
beckoning us into her thin clay colored arms
She has my mother's face etched with time
peers at me me from eyes wide and dark
like mine
I walk into these arms, the ones that mothered my mother,
taught her how to mother me
inhale the history from her skin
She reminds me of the little girl
bow legged and round faced, holding roasted corn in one hand
and a fistful of chin chin in the other
still begging for Orange Fanta to wash it all down
I remember her voice firm yet loving
"eh eh... mma bassey agi.. awai..."
you must eat, then drink
sometimes I forget but she remembers the small scared girl
carried away on an iron bird to America
Seems like that same bird has returned only to replace, her,
that perfect girl with me
this strange tongue tied woman,
the one that can barely say hello
without the clicks and moans the dips and tones of the white man's language
She listens now as I struggle with atum adem
It breaks my heart to realize that
I can only love her clearly in english
But tears do not replace the words
love will not make it easier
make it less heavy
desire will not help me remember
what the words taste like flowing like the Cross River from my tongue
But this is not my only tongue
Insolent and heavy with the awkward movements of amber waves
east or west this is not my village
and my heart still longs for my grandmother's voice
steady and strong crossing rivers and oceans
rounding buildings of mud, thatched roof
of steel and glass
concrete and confusion
still I am afraid that it will not find me here
in this land miles
from the one that welcomed me into this world
lifetimes before I existed in this cosmopolitan space
"nbong non yin ben yami?"
"nbong non yin ben yami?"
what will I teach my children?
what will I tell them of where I've been
the earth that shaped me
the hands that held me
the land that made me
what will they call home
and will they here it if and when it calls them
my heart still holds the salt and clay of Ugep
the strength of our women isn't lost in me
but sometimes I forget and find it difficult to walk in bare feet
afraid to remember what history feels like dust covered and
peeking from brown toes
oklahoma
DC
brooklyn
will not help me remember
ikom
ugep
calabar
they will also not let me forget fingers sticky with fuu fuu
swallowed whole
or tongues stinging numb from plantain fried in palm oil
But I have lost the grit and the grain of my grandmother's gari
I can't taste past this nostalgic lump in my throat
can't stomach the reality of this my divided culture
African
American
I am everything
And I am nothing
Nigeria quietly begs me to remember
While America slowly urges me to forget
but it's for my past
It's for my future
it is for my children
and it is for you, grandmother
that I must
always
always
remember
-Bassey Ikpi ( CREDITS TO http://loveanaija.blogspot.com/2006/11/homeward-by-bassey-ikpi.html )
Homeward
01/13/2004
Today, I remember my grandmother
As she attempts to connect with her second children
she finds the only english words she knows
from somewhere hidden in the belly of her 4 foot 9 inch body
and instead of awonke she greets us with "bye bye"
beckoning us into her thin clay colored arms
She has my mother's face etched with time
peers at me me from eyes wide and dark
like mine
I walk into these arms, the ones that mothered my mother,
taught her how to mother me
inhale the history from her skin
She reminds me of the little girl
bow legged and round faced, holding roasted corn in one hand
and a fistful of chin chin in the other
still begging for Orange Fanta to wash it all down
I remember her voice firm yet loving
"eh eh... mma bassey agi.. awai..."
you must eat, then drink
sometimes I forget but she remembers the small scared girl
carried away on an iron bird to America
Seems like that same bird has returned only to replace, her,
that perfect girl with me
this strange tongue tied woman,
the one that can barely say hello
without the clicks and moans the dips and tones of the white man's language
She listens now as I struggle with atum adem
It breaks my heart to realize that
I can only love her clearly in english
But tears do not replace the words
love will not make it easier
make it less heavy
desire will not help me remember
what the words taste like flowing like the Cross River from my tongue
But this is not my only tongue
Insolent and heavy with the awkward movements of amber waves
east or west this is not my village
and my heart still longs for my grandmother's voice
steady and strong crossing rivers and oceans
rounding buildings of mud, thatched roof
of steel and glass
concrete and confusion
still I am afraid that it will not find me here
in this land miles
from the one that welcomed me into this world
lifetimes before I existed in this cosmopolitan space
"nbong non yin ben yami?"
"nbong non yin ben yami?"
what will I teach my children?
what will I tell them of where I've been
the earth that shaped me
the hands that held me
the land that made me
what will they call home
and will they here it if and when it calls them
my heart still holds the salt and clay of Ugep
the strength of our women isn't lost in me
but sometimes I forget and find it difficult to walk in bare feet
afraid to remember what history feels like dust covered and
peeking from brown toes
oklahoma
DC
brooklyn
will not help me remember
ikom
ugep
calabar
they will also not let me forget fingers sticky with fuu fuu
swallowed whole
or tongues stinging numb from plantain fried in palm oil
But I have lost the grit and the grain of my grandmother's gari
I can't taste past this nostalgic lump in my throat
can't stomach the reality of this my divided culture
African
American
I am everything
And I am nothing
Nigeria quietly begs me to remember
While America slowly urges me to forget
but it's for my past
It's for my future
it is for my children
and it is for you, grandmother
that I must
always
always
remember
-Bassey Ikpi ( CREDITS TO http://loveanaija.blogspot.com/2006/11/homeward-by-bassey-ikpi.html )
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useful
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