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THE AFRICAN CHILD OF TODAY


Back in the days, the story was
We sat around mama
As the moon made the night so bright
Listening to her tell us folktales
Listening to her proverbs and wise sayings

We cherished our history and celebrated our roots
We valued our rich culture and heritage
We sang our songs and echoed them gladly
Danced, clapped and shook our heads to our own beats
Wore our own and spoke our language

A child belonged to the community
Discipline was instilled
Salutation was compulsory
Everyone knew everyone in the community
We didn’t fence and gate ourselves
We lived happily

In this day and time everything is changed
And we are lost in the change
We are lost between westernization and civilization  
We are neither here nor there
And we are losing at all ends
Colonial mentality is not letting us think our own or think ourselves
In our quest to love white we have made black ugly

Our children are hanging
Hanging between accepting the western culture and accepting ours
We have taught our children to talk like them
Speak their language
Learn their accent
Dress like them
Eat their food
We have joined in calling our own local and primitive

When are we planning to grow the African child who would be proud of his origin?
The African child who will wear her own
The African child who will speak his language
The African child who will value and celebrate her culture
The African child who will eat his own

This is a call for action
It is a call for help
It is a call for change
Happy African Child’s Day

All Rights Reserved © Stella C. Obokoh 2018









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LENSES

I struggled for too long Being who I wasn’t Fitting  my circle into other people's 
perfect squares -- into all their
expectations for me Their perception was all that mattered What they will see and say Their standard for success and achievement
I showed up acting who I wasn’t Like a dancing monkey under obligations to perform magic To gain their recognition and affirmations for being who I wasn’t Against being Me
I broke the chains and gained freedom the day I stopped looking at myself through other people’s lenses because I discovered people wore lenses tinted and shaded to suit them not Me
All Rights Reserved © Stella C. Obokoh 2019

WHO EXACTLY

Housed in a container Moved in it Identified by its aesthetics But sometimes lost in it Who exactly am I the container or the content
Sometimes I try so hard to figure exactly what it is about this combo Sometimes complicating other times compelling sometimes conflicting other times cooperating
Influenced by the countless conversations with  the inner and the  outer the seen and the unseen the known and the unknown Then I discover It goes beyond this container there is something about content
As adorned as this container maybe embellished with so much beauty the content remains the substance that give it credibility Beyond the container that interacts is the content that keeps the flow is the content that leaves  memorable impacts
All Rights Reserved © Stella C. Obokoh 2018