OLDEN DAY MEMORIES.

 

immages

 

As a scholar at high school, i was an ardent lover of the outdoor activities. I was an active team member of the Hockey squad then member to a majority of clubs and societies. Just to mention a few; History club, Science club, Literature club, Drama club, Choir club am afraid the list is growing longer than i thought! Verse Speaking was however my best only for now i beg to withheld the good reasons.

Good things come with a prize. As a verse speaker, one was obliged to master at least fifteen verses but not at the expensive compromise of the usual class work routine. Cramming instead of memorizing was thus a valuable alternative learning tool. I have  the profound pleasure to share with you the last poem i did as a final year high school graduate. We soared as eagles due to good harmonious team work but floored at the provincial levels. We had to succumb to the stiff competition staged by our sisters but didn’t allow the winning margins to dismiss our invested efforts. This was despite the fact that this was majorly a feminine battle field ours being the only boys school staging the fight! It was all about “An argument with God”

My child was struggling for life in hospital

And i, worried, tensed and tired

Sat in silent prayer

In violence silence

Arguing with my God

God? i said. Why do you allow him to suffer so?

Why him all the time? why?

God was silent

Not a word from him. Not a word

May be i thought.

God is angry with me

I’ll appease my God

I’ll promise to be good

Try to be good at least

Surely God will then respond

God! i pleaded

Please God. To be good is hard but ill try.

My child must live!

Live free from pain

God you know i love him

Don’t you. Don’t you. Don’t you. Don’t you?

But God was dumb; like my child

Then, i said to myself.

God is just. I’ ll appeal for just.

He can not deny me justice

God? i called

Though you are silent. I am sure you hear me

Be fair. Be just

Let him live strong and happy.

Then, i saw on the wall a cockroach pregnant with an egg

In the pains of labor bringing forth a new life.

I snatched a newspaper and hit the cockroach

It fall on its back  struggling with life

And i crushed it with the heel of my shoe

All the time i was praying,

Violently pleading for life

The life of my child.

 

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