Our people say:
"You see a bird with no hands but only a beak and it can build the nest that you cannot build." - Kenyan Elder.
"I'll bear in mind the words of strangers may lead me astray from everything I knew was true." - Freshlyground - Fire is Low [ Paraphrased ]
One's spirit, soul and body are all weak. Three blind mice trying to help each other. One day, One will cruise downhill...away. I hope One finds the tip of the earth and blends in with the waterfalls. One belongs nowhere. One can cope anywhere. One day, One will cruise away...downhill.
But before One leaves, no one can swear that One destroyed all, or any, that they built. If they point to the sky, they cannot point to the ground. If they point to the ground, they cannot point to the sky. None can lick their fingers, no one can swear. If another curses One, it will be a causeless cause. That will not stand.
Will the water never dry? The grass is green where One waters it. By the time One waters and tends and re-waters the grass, One cannot see lush, green fields. One sees the work they have done to keep the grass green. But it is better than to want to lounge on another's green grass. Uninvited.
One should tell One's children: 'Children, before you listen to anyone, find out why they are qualified to teach you about life.' Then, One should go ahead to teach them about life. If they ask, 'what qualifies One to teach them about life', say: 'One carried you for nine months. This stomach, you kicked it. These breasts, you sucked them. These hands, they will slap you the next time you ask that stupid question.' One should proceed to teach them about life.
It is easier to play hide and seek behind One's walls. Another should spend their entire life trying to break through. If the walls come down step by step, it is easier to re-stack the steps up as needed. If there are no walls, it takes [impossible] to build them when needed.
Having walls and loving selflessly are NOT mutually exclusive.
Having walls and loving foolishly are mutually exclusive.
One must remember to be critical. But, One cannot always question why the night is for sleep and why the eggs are for morning.
Make sure you are not taking another's best greens.
One has a soul rhythm blasting, in the evenings, and softly playing, in the mornings. But there are clothes and clothes and then the glaring public and political correctness to try to burst through. Though One still dances at the red stop lights and cat-bounces through the pedestrian walk.
If you find me, I failed at the things that did not plead with my heart. And the others, I told them as stories or songs. When you find the boxes, brown cheddar boxes, you will not be able to swear that they were not mine. I don't know if I lived, but I went to Victory and found God-kind and I went to the house and the kinship sang songs. If I could take one thing to heaven, I would take a song but the ones in heaven are richer and a thick chord. So, I will leave the songs and the stories for my children.
When they ask me: 'where are you from?' I say, 'I am Yoruba and Bini and I come from Port Harcourt'. They say it is not short enough and I should choose one. So, I say quickly, Yoruba-Bini-Storyteller from Port Harcourt'. Still too long. So, I say, Port Harcourt's Yoruba Bini. Too much. Then, I say, PH Yoruba Bini. Then, they sigh, hiss and tell me that I cannot be all. So, I say: "Ok. but I swear, do not spread my ashes outside of Port Harcourt City."
One day, I will cruise away and it will be a downhill carnival.
I was naked before they could accuse me of not being X-enough.