Near the wardrobe
My wife left a bulging Ghana -must-go
Its contents I do not know
But a long time
This bag has been here
Perhaps of children's wears
Or books Or other wares
I have the least opportunity to know.
There is a mural
On this bag
Of crowns, stars, hearts and cards
In colours of red, brown, blue and black
That never fade with time.
This bag
She left her change
On top of it
Of ten, twenty and fifty naira
And this reminded me
About when the military
Ruled my country
This was the bag
The public wealth
Was stolen in.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem