Our Lipton-scorched tongues told no lies
When we sang those early morning hymns.
This was before seven hours of
Dozing, learning, reciting and
Staring out of windows wondering where
The dirt-covered road lead.
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Laundry, comic book art and name-calling
Followed hurried lunches.
Those soiled roll-on deodorant balls
We smacked around with our new sandals,
Made good tennis games better.
We would compete or cheer in the
Occasional grappling and quarrelling
Over which superhero was strongest.
\
As evening arrived and skies cooled,
A good shower or contraband perfume
Masked our uncultured selves
When we greeted pretty counterparts for night…
On a whim I took a train to nowhere.
A stowed vehicle reminded me of
My dad’s old whip
And how it wheezed and cracked when it hit
Those burnt out Lagos roads.
\
Oh captain, my captain!
I have found that conformity,
Though restraining,
Is peace and warmth reassuring;
’Tis a life of comforting meals and ravenous dreams.
\
To have freedom is to nibble away
At joy till it becomes intoxicating.
To loosen up oneself and
Plunge into the unknown
Is to dare Death but truly live.
\
When ambitious youth dream,
Do they wake up to know that
All roads converge in one?
That flying too close to the sun
Will only leave them undone?
I remember creating my first social media account and being prompted to follow a suggested list of popular accounts. I remember asking for a follow back from every new person I followed, both friends and strangers. I remember the flood of unusual excitement that followed a ping from my phone. I remember feeling rejected when, after hours, there were no engagements on my posts; no comments, no shares, no retweets, no new follows and no likes. I remember admiring people who had several followers and viral activity on their profiles. I remember the feeling of want and lack while I…
Tomisin Jenrola
Constantly Learning
