O! Jebu! climbed the mountain and stood atop, akimbo!
As if as if...
looked deep down the valley into the hole;
raising his head next to look up at the empty sky.
This system is sick...
O! Jebu! must face the tasks:
put things apart; make sense of the whole;
bring the pieces back together!
But where...
where do we place the noesis?
O! Jebu! stretched his right hand upwards...
The sky was nowhere within his reach!
So let us tell tales...
for the lack of knowledge
between the hole deep down the valley and the empty sky high above.
Let us say... they say...
They say Mawu used to live on the next floor upstairs!
And as it used to be... they say...
O! Jebu! could stand on his two feet and touch the sky
or when he felt like it, he could look out of his window
and give Mawu a wink or a wave of high five!
But it came to pass... the ancestors disobeyed Mawu!
Day after day
they lifted their heavy pestles skywards
and pounded the peace of Mawu
as they crushed yam, coco-yam, plantain and cassava into fufu.
So Mawu stormed out in anger
and removed the sky from within the reach of man!
And so O! Jebu! must now rent the services of an intercessor,
born of a virgin or of pure oracles,
if he ever wishes to speak to Mawu the omnipresent!
And yet little did Mawu the all-knowing know
O! Jebu! would soon fly aircrafts into his sky.
Mother of palmwine! Mawu Sodza!
The same God who remains the same, they say,
and yet changes regardless without prior notice.
Mother of palmwine! Mawu Sodza!
So let us tell another tale.
They say, again, so let us say:
Let us say Kweku Ananse the spider took the place of O Jebu
and presented himself before Death
in a puzzle of many a great complication.
So Death said to Ananse:
"Because you have eaten my food,
you must die...you will die! You and your family!"
But Ananse did not want to die. No!
Instead, Ananse pedaled his many legs
in one heart-throbbing attempt to flee...
So they say... and so let us say...
Let us say it is the reason why Ananse is seen caught in his own web
in corners or on ceilings of buildings in his attempt to flee…
Flee...flee from Death!
So we tell tales...
Tales to fill up the space, to make up for the lack of knowledge
between the hole deep down the valley and the empty sky high above;
strange-tales... fairy-tales...
Tales that make us cry maa maa! Or make us laugh kwa kwa kwa!
Tales of why the crab is headless,
Tales of why the moon dies,
... of why soldier-ants move in a file,
... of why indeed the monkey has a tail!
O! Jebu! Stared At The Beginning As Ananse Tickled Himself In The End - Novisi Dzitrie
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
This poem is a window of generosity through which we can look into some of the baseless, reasonable, credible and ridiculous arguments that have psychological and spiritual influence on humanity.
During my Advance Level education, I studied myths in West African Traditional Religion.16 years on, I can barely remember any of the theories. So in the face of similar motive, may I quote Donald Rumsfeld who once said: "There are known knowns. These are things we know that we know. There are known unknowns. That is to say, there are things that we know we don't know. But there are also unknown unknowns. There are things we don't know we don't know"
Whichever category of 'known' and 'unknowns' we choose to place the traditional stories within our reach, it does not deny their moral and entertainment value. Just like the tales of Ghanaian origin, there are many world written super-reasons, super-poofs, and superstitions that confuse us - more than they can convince. For that record, I agree we should "tell the tales... for the lack of knowledge". But let us re-examine the rationale behind them, if we will.
When you visit my blog, you will see a lot of changes - over a period of 4years. I have dismounted a Pamela Roberts photograph (of myself) I propped on the home page, replacing it with an erection of how black I wish I was: a busty art I copied from Google Images. The template background has changed from white to yellow, to grey. Several other additions and deletes. Yet I have kept the gadget that links Novisi's blog. My loyalty can be simply explained:
Novisi Dzitrie is a writer whose literature has the flair to attract obsessive public admiration. His wits are so sharp, and his imagery so refined.
If Christopher Hitchens (the late English journalist) is different from Dzitrie, the contrast lies in the fact that Hitchens is an atheist who went too far to author the book, 'God Is Not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything'. And, if Hitchens is similar to Dzitrie, the comparison lies in the fact that both are writers with wisecracks.
Welldone Novisi. I will keep reading your works.
Post a Comment