MOBOLAJI OLAWALE - POEMS

Mobolaji Olawale is a Nigerian medical doctor who has had works published in Brittle Paper, Kalahari Review, Afridiaspora, Tuck Magazine and African writer. He worries about his FPL team every weekend. He tweets at @theBolaji

---

The Fall 
​

​We were pretty flowers in the summer.
We glowed bright in the sun's glimmer.
We were young lovers, a sonorous tale.
Love was a tree, withstood the gale.
But at the toss of fate's unfair die,
The nightingales sing no more.
In your cries, I hear them howl.
The red dying sun has pulled
Our shadows very far apart.
And now our hearts stand
Like inverted pyramids.
Dreading the balance,
Craving the fall.

IT'S OKAY TO SPRAY THE BLAME BUT
​

​It's hard enough being born on dirty waters,
Being picked erced by the reality of life on the run.
It's hard enough being poor
Having to steal to save your children's lives
-Because no one will borrow you anything-
And getting caught in the process.
It's hard enough being slapped on your back
A slap that might end your life
But being labelled what you're not
Is what really kills you.
A thief. A criminal.
A killer.
You get famous.
Irate people hold meetings in white,
They are desperate to make you a scapegoat.
Tropical politicians paint their lies in your colours.
And you understand why it is so
Even though you never meant for any of this
To happen.
Now, no one will listen to you
Even if you could speak English
And tell them repeatedly
Life is not fair to a female
Anopheles mosquito too. 

How to tell her
​

They have tutored you a thousand times before
They have told you
You must first come to terms
With the fact that she may say no
And whatever cute stories you have
Of her eyelashes and wet voice
You must time them
In those moments when her eyes retract tears
Like unrotting northern Nigerian tomatoes
In unmaking acquaintance of sorrow
In that period between the last bomb blast and the next
They have told you to plant your seed of love in her heart
In the time between the last uprooting and the next
Because every bomb blast is an uprooting in her heart
And you understand-
It all makes sense
Until you realize
There are no such moments in Borno
And so, you probably will never tell her.