THE DAY I TOOK NOTE

 

I

I have a fair idea
of how the world bares its teeth at failure
yet pops champagne to success
when you finally rise.

Of how suffering earns little sympathy,

but prosperity suddenly attracts investigators....
everyone wanting to trace
the source of your shine.

Then, without warning,
doors that once swallowed keys
and slammed in your face
now cough out welcomes.
Drinking glasses gossip.
Walls that ignored your knock
learn your name by heart.

I have a fair idea.

 II

I have a fair idea
of laughter that leaks betrayal.
Of praise rehearsed before mirrors,
pressed like Sunday fugu, kaba and slit,
shouted boldly in your presence
and folded behind your back like collapsible chair.

Smiles that arrive authentic
and depart counterfeit.
Smiles that clap in careful sycophancy,
counting your steps
as you climb the stairs of uncertainty,
awaiting your big fall!!

I have a fair idea.

 III

I have a fair idea
of the day my body becomes motionless.....
an event.
Laid in state.
Cold.
Glossed.

Framed like a national monument
no one budgets to maintain.
Grief will rehearse.
Tears will audition.
Sorrow will arrive dressed for broadcast
and leave with funeral jollof in takeaway packs.

Friends will reunite...
those who last met in forgotten classrooms.
They will wave at the hearse,
wipe crocodile tears,
pause briefly, like a clock counting seconds....
then the ice chests will open.

Beers will sweat with smiles.
Cheers will rise.
Waists will sway to old kwakwadobi dirges.
Laughter will forgive everything.
Business will clear its throat.
Life will straighten its collar.

And I....
I will pass like harmattan:
dry-mouthed, dust-speaking,
gone before anyone sweeps the veranda.

 IV

I have a fair idea
of my worth in offices and corridors......
useful,
but temporary.

Today you are the hero.
Tomorrow, the inconvenience.
Your seat offered to another,
and you become a stranger
in the building that once felt like home.

Desks do not mourn.
Signatures migrate.
Folders forget.

So I have learnt how to live.
Not as entertainment
for public approval.
Not bending to please the unpleasable.
Not chanting praise
for lovers of applause.

And yes....
I have a fair idea
of God, in His quiet authority,
lifting whom He wills
beyond mortal calculations.
Unbothered by entitlement.
Unmoved by comparison.

That is why He is God
all by Himself.
And that is where I anchor my confidence....
for in Him
I live,
and move,
and have my being.

 

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