Letter To Omalinze Poem by John Chizoba Vincent

Omalinze the great, the maker of rain
You are the beauty of the day, a mighty man
Whose muse keep me going in the journey of life.
My humble appreciation to the gods for a man of you kind.
Omalinze, the water melon in the compoun is shading
Its leaves again like those days of famine in nkporo
The clock is still and the world remained silence.
You know the world remained silence when we die but alas
The hunters are back in the testament of their foolishness.
Mother is home sick of her missing ribs
And father can't stop writing your names on his forehead
In your remembrance and deeds to the mortals.
He was at Idemili for the usual sacrifice for your protection
In the foreign land where roses abides.
Later, the black cats visited and we were afraid,
because father said that they were evil,
The net day he went to Idemili again from Nkporo
To see the future and seek information about you.
The thousand dreams of seeing your face alive
But a fierce bullet pierce into his soul when
Okadigbo, The priest, told him the ear breaking news.
He said you had gone to meet your ancestors beyond
we were heart broken, even tears spoke of our agony.
mother torn her wrapper and rolled on the ground,
Father danced the forbidden song of a lost pride.
Our mouth ceased to speak again as if we all hang
Her unblown in the eyes of the gods of Nkporo.
we watched the walls of the compound fell in tears.
The exile of the air and the thatched roof weeping.
The birds gathered in the compound to say goodbye
To a hero they sang for in the field once.
Obineme came back from the U.S.A and confirmed your death.
Which created more sorrow to us when watching the sky.
Then the kindred buried your photography as the custom demanded.
NKem came, ugonma was there, ugolama wept for you
Obi cried for you, uche torn her wrapper for you
Nkemji flopped herself on the ground for you at the funeral ground where your photography in a casket was lowered
to mother earth in six fit.
Father later died in shame and sorrow.
Mother made the kitchen her room with a sackcloth,
supplicating to the gods who betrayed us.
We sacrificed to the gods on your behave as father taught us.
Kambili re arranged the shrine and made us heroes.
but suddenly the air cracked and broke into two
Its wings parted ways in the fallen compound.
The rivers wept in silent chaos as our tears
Clapped their hands in their presences.
Mbanefo came back and narrated gently to us of
Your predicament and how you were arrested and jailed
For the cause of what you are righteously innocent.
We were dead with happiness as we had you are alive.
Your photography had been dug out from the grave.
Mother is well againm as we are preparing to meet
You again then follow you to the stream of happiness.
Come home quick brother, for our cracking eyes
Ankled our opened mouth to see you emerge.
till then, we shall keep the fire burning and
Remain safe in the land which once harbour our forebears.


Your brother
vincent