The Message in a Bottle

I roved out one dawn in may
With a free spirit
Blowing like leaves in the wind
To watch the beauty of sunrise
On the nipple of Mt. Mitarnmitan!

Out there in chill of the morn
I took a seat on my favorite log
Facing the east where the celestial fire ball was meant to rise
From the ashes and slumber of its death in the west!

The fragrance of an eau de toilette
Wavered through the morning breeze
Making clear to me
That I was not alone in this great theater of nature!

On a flowery sheet spread to my left
Sat a lass with a hand painted gown
Her torso was guarded with a knitted sweater
Prepared too to observe the beauty of dawn!

When the sun had finally taken its seat in the skies
And the world was up and busy with life
I leaped to my feet walking away
Pretending I sat through this movie alone!

This spot had been mine for years
Studded with memories of my adolescent days
To find another sharing my niche
Drove me into the frenzy of a territorial lizard!

To the sea my muse led me
Where a trillion fathoms bathed the shore
There on the sand I sat
Reminiscing about my partner at my theater of dreams!

She indeed was pretty
With a finely cut face
Bearing one of those beauty spots
In the corner of her nose
My heart somewhat had formed an unspoken bond
Replaying the encounter every now and then behind the curtains of my minds eye!

Then it came drifting in the waves
A message from the skies borne in the billow
The cork bubbled up and down
Hitting the sand right in front of me!

In the bottle was a letter
Written by someone in love
He spoke of a strange encounter with a lady of his dreams
Whom the heavens gave a glimpse of her beauty
In an encounter at sunset!

I looked around for a sign of company
But the deserted beach held none but me
Into the bottle the message went
And up in my bookshelf it found a resting place!

Sitting on the porch
I watched live forms fill in the empty scene at the beach
Laughing and playing in the noon tide
Without worries or care!

Dreamily I tapped the floorboards
To a familiar tune
Through the rays of sunset her face comes to me again
Refilling my thoughts with another serving of the morning's encounter!

From "Musings"
By
John Martins Agba
April 06

THE COLORED TRIBE

Colored! they call us
Looking Down in distaste
Yet endlessly they troop like baboons
Swinging on the Duku tree
To steal a sight of these wondrous burnt skinned tribe in the guise of tourism!

COLOURS

From the multicolored jigida
That temptingly graces the slender waists of our maidens
To the multi coloured loom that weaves the Akwete and Kente cloth
That clads the Mohobelo dancers!

NATURE

The browns of our savannah
The ochre of our deserts
The greens of our jungles
Like a magnet attracts the world to us!

We pride in our pride of lions
While we gather round the fireplace
Sharing laughter with the hyena
Underneath the guard of mother moon!

MUSIC & DANCE

With talents too we are blessed
The sweetest of sounds
Escaping our instruments
Carved by our own hand from objects of nature!

Bring out the talking drum and the lyre
Pluck the Lamellophone and Mbira in harmony
Strike also the strings of the Adungu, Kora and the one-stringed fiddle
And relay our passion to the world
As we sing in one tune songs of peace!

Let our maidens come out and dance
As well as our clay colored warriors
Clad yourselves with the Kente, Alasho, Isiagu and Djellaba
Throw on a Kanga and Koto
Let your Kaftans sweep the floors
As we thrill the pale world in the dance of the colored people!

Clear your voices Dibango, Kojo, Habib and Kidjo
Rouse the ghosts of Fela and Taylor
Bless the night with the rhythm of the Afrobeats
Letting your ancestors be assured by your drumming
That the tribe lives on and our tradition too!

FOOD

From his looks
This stranger appears weary, pale and underfed
For he has come a long way
To see with his own eyes
That our resilience comes not from magic
But from puddings and gruels
Concocted over the hearth!

Let him have a taste of our palm wine
As well as a wrapped serving of Tapioca and fish
Let him whet his appetite on the vegetable salad
Before he is presented with a mound of our cassava fou-fou!

He asks for “desert”
We present him with more palm wine and a bowl of roasted termites
Yuck! He says!
Well my pale friend I replied!
“In Africa Nature gives all and we waste none at all!”

TRADITIONS

From the tongues of the griots of Sambala,Papa Susso and Tata Bambo Kouyate
The stories will flow down the line
Dan Maraya Jos with the sweetest of tongues
Will speak forth the tale that once was handed to him!

Let the young men gather beneath the banyan tree
Where they would dare the adventure of the forests
To prove their coming of age
To partake in the rituals of adolescence!

Let the Morans gather at the palace
And present their herds before the king
And he whose flock outnumbers all
Should be given the hand of his daughter in marriage!

Let the women and children
And those with feeble hearts
Run for cover beneath the shades of dark
Let the initiates join the parade
For the dance of the night masquerade is about to begin!
Let he who seeks the hand of the maiden step forward
And bare his back to the sting of the whip
Let him prove himself a man worthy of her maidenhead
By bearing the bite of a hundred lashes!

PEACE

A grey partridge
Coos in the morning light
Calling out to their smiling faces
Asubuhi Njema !

The owl and nightingale
Birds of dusk
Hoot and sing their evening song ushering in the night
Kachifo! COLOURED PEOPLE!

From “Songs to Mother Africa”
By
John Martins Agba
April 06, 2015 08:53p.m.