Nigeria a@50 - Day 27 : I LOVE HOME
"Nigeria at 50, Day 26 - Tobenna www.eyemuse.blogspot.com
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I shout at the top of my voice "Hello , can you hear me !!!"
I can hear her voice, but she can't hear me.
I have to dial again and again before the great MTN or is it the mighty GLO allows us to converse.
This remains my daily communication with home.
Her heart beats when she hears my hi(s).
My heart skips when I hear her bye(s).
Her mind ponders.
My mind wonders.
Her voice resonates ripples across the ocean waters.
My voice baritones across the wavy atlantic waters.
I can sense her pains.
She can sense my groans.
I can feel the tears dropping down her cheeks.
She can sense the fears from the pulse of my beats.
Her voice echoes from a distance.
My voice thunders from the mountains.
My mind gropes in the dark when the phone clicks.
Her mind is revived when the line rings.
Our eyes do not clash, but our hearts remain meshed.
Our flesh is weakened, but our hearts remain strengthened.
That is my story of Nigeria, or permit me to say our home - the diasporian Nigerian.
My home is where my heart is.
My house is where my head lays.
My home is where I open the door to a warm embrace.
My house is where I open the door and I’m welcomed with a heap of bills.
My home made me.
My house says something about me.
My home trained me.
My house feeds me.
My home is Nigeria.
And my house is America.
I may leave my house but my home, remains my home.
At 50 we are plagued with different frontiers of issues: Power, Security and Jobs .
But i choose not to look at the problems but look at the opportunities.
Impossibility remains a world we create in our minds, if we all(all tribes) synergize our energies - all these issues would be a thing of the past.
By the way... I LOVE HOME
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"Nigeria at 50, Day 28 - Naijaline www.naijalines.blogspot.com
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I shout at the top of my voice "Hello , can you hear me !!!"
I can hear her voice, but she can't hear me.
I have to dial again and again before the great MTN or is it the mighty GLO allows us to converse.
This remains my daily communication with home.
Her heart beats when she hears my hi(s).
My heart skips when I hear her bye(s).
Her mind ponders.
My mind wonders.
Her voice resonates ripples across the ocean waters.
My voice baritones across the wavy atlantic waters.
I can sense her pains.
She can sense my groans.
I can feel the tears dropping down her cheeks.
She can sense the fears from the pulse of my beats.
Her voice echoes from a distance.
My voice thunders from the mountains.
My mind gropes in the dark when the phone clicks.
Her mind is revived when the line rings.
Our eyes do not clash, but our hearts remain meshed.
Our flesh is weakened, but our hearts remain strengthened.
That is my story of Nigeria, or permit me to say our home - the diasporian Nigerian.
My home is where my heart is.
My house is where my head lays.
My home is where I open the door to a warm embrace.
My house is where I open the door and I’m welcomed with a heap of bills.
My home made me.
My house says something about me.
My home trained me.
My house feeds me.
My home is Nigeria.
And my house is America.
I may leave my house but my home, remains my home.
At 50 we are plagued with different frontiers of issues: Power, Security and Jobs .
But i choose not to look at the problems but look at the opportunities.
Impossibility remains a world we create in our minds, if we all(all tribes) synergize our energies - all these issues would be a thing of the past.
By the way... I LOVE HOME
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"Nigeria at 50, Day 28 - Naijaline www.naijalines.blogspot.com
After all is said, and we realise that Nigeria is 'home' then, we will understand we have only one choice.....
ReplyDelete...strive to make home (Nigeria) a better place, so, we can always feel at home (at home).
...it is truly where the heart is
ReplyDeletecome can't be changed
" My home is where my heart is.
ReplyDeleteMy house is where my head lays.
My home is where I open the door to a warm embrace.
My house is where I open the door and I’m welcomed with a heap of bills.
My home made me.
My house says something about me.
My home trained me.
My house feeds me."
Totally feeling this. I like the diasporan perspective. your portrayal of it and the connection one feels to one's origins is pretty realistic.
Sooo on point on tribalism. We as Nigerians should work on the disunity that tribalism brings and make it a thing of the past by embracing a (new) national identity we can all be proud of.
interesting poem.
ReplyDeleteYou can definitely sense her pains BUT
Can 'She' really sense your groans?
Spot on! We need to be proud of Nigeria!
iLove the poem :)
ReplyDeleteIndeed we all love home..
food for thoughts
ReplyDelete