Tears in the Gateway
There is a gate in Umuahia
Where the wind still smells of kerosene and silence
It was once the mouth of a village
But now only tells stories in whispers
Stories the earth tries to forget
Mama said, war came like a fever
One morning the sky wore soldier’s boots
Bullets humming hymns of sorrow
And the air stammered with gunfire
They came singing in tongues of fire
Turning fathers into ash
And mothers into whispers of the past
In Nsukka, Obiageli was dragged
From behind her grandmother’s kitchen
They broke her voice
Before they broke her body
The sky mourned
The moon bled
Even the sun shut its eyes
The houses danced with flame
Clay and thatch swallowed in red smoke
And children learned the alphabet
Through the names of the dead
Scribbling them into their immortal memories
Papa wrote prayers on his calloused palm
With charcoal and ache of hunger
With their polished fingernails
They count the dead
To feed skeletons with names
They served us bullets for supper
Little boys with bellies like balloons
Drank silence for lunch
And dreamed of akara that would never come
The world was silent when we died
Uncle Emeka disappeared near Onitsha bridge
They said the river swallowed his uniform
But left his boots at the shores of Niger
His wife still sets two plates every evening
Her eyes glued to the doorway
Just in case peace grows a voice
Wars echo in the bones of generations
Who inherit the grief without the grave
Yet, the gateway still stands
Some nights, it sobs
Some nights, it sings
And I listen with a heart stitched from unburied names
Ugwu Kingsley Ikenna is a Nigerian of Igbo descent. Kingsley has a deep passion for literature. His environment has played a significant role in shaping his artistic perspective. He is a contributor on Spillwords and Eterna journal. For Kingsley, writing is a channel to educate and enlighten.
