The changed mantra.

     

A dramatic poetry of a stolen pot of Amala.
((A true life story of the Change Era.))

                   Scene 1
              In the Kitchen

((Iya Aduke punctures the pregnancy of
her Amala, protruded by the fiery furnace
birthed by her gas cooker which sits with
an utmost
confidence on her large cupboard;
By the window side of the tenants' kitchen;
catering a festively lunch for her family.))

IYA ADUKE:
Aduke! Aduke!! Yinka! Akorede!! Haaaa!!
Aduke of the squirrel's ears! Of teared ear drum!
Have these kids gone storm the street for playing,
When it was a bit insidious minute they came?

If their stomachs go drought, they'd return.
Can't they for once be sheepish to their breast?
Now I care for plates to house the feasts,
And they're uselessly busy on the street.

((Quickly asperses Amala floor in the pot
and baptises it with water and the pot lid.
Swiftly crawls into her nearby room for plates))

                    Scene 2
               At the Balcony

((Returns with 6 plates and a pot of soup,
Which tightly rests on her fists to not fall
But falls successfully on the cupboard, while
the plates stunt on same by a vibrating mother!))

IYA ADUKE:
Wonder alien to my eyes,
I see the cat's skull on the trade tray.
Where has gone the Amala?
Oh blazing gas!
Who has stolen your prey?
Oh! The culprit stepped on the flour
and has left behind a road map.
On this, I shall travel over to get him.

((Iya Aduke tiptoeing on the footprint
like a crab crawling or the snail in sprint.
The print leads to the neighbouring house,
And the culprit has come by the window.
Iya Aduke lands before a door which is locked
And she looks around for continuous search.
The balcony she creep towards and there
She stumbled on the culprits of her meal.))

IYA ADUKE:
Haa! Haa!! Haa!!! Iyaaa Kinnniii!!!
And this I made on my kneels...
I... I... I d'nnhh...

((Her voice was seized and mouth unclosed;
Her breath almost gone, by the event unfold.
All her eyes could do was to release water,
For the scene has punctured it with hot metal.
The turning stick held for war joins the tears
As it falls helplessly on the floor and yells.))

((Iya Ajihun with her five children enclose
The Amala which keep breathing a wisp.
With great spaceless speed, they sends
every morsels into their abdomens "as e dey hot"
with a handmade delicious soup which
sent shock waves to Iya Aduke and her turning stick.
The soup is actually a *"palm oil mixed with salt."*
And this conditional *"offering for sacrifice"*
called food, wet Iya Aduke's face to soakage.
Oh! Shall this then be called stealing or
the dogged sacrificial dare of motherhood?))

IYA ADUKE:
Oh kneeling of motherhood!
What a pitiable dismal abysmal!
The Amala which even I yelled upon,
I didn't know it's hotter elsewhere;
Not even in my neighborhood.

Let Ajihun follow me for a soup.
It's even going to relief the pot today.
God has written it's meant for you.
Feel no guilt! I more than fathom;
It's the heat of the Change Mantra.

By: Ayeyemi Taofeek K.
      (ASWAGAAWY)
       ©2016/09/06.

Ayeyemi Taofeek Aswagaawy is an essayist and poet, published on many literary publications including Peregrine Reads and PIN Quarterly journal. He won the 2013 Equity Prize of Advocacy, LASULAWS Best Writer Award 2016 and other coveted prizes.