Poem: True heroes

Let the square roar exultantly
Let taut drum-skins boom flatteringly
And skilled dancers throw themselves like dust in the air;
Let’s lift our voices in high spirits, in the manner
Worthy of receiving our warriors when they return victoriously.
Let mothers now take the floor
let them mount on our admiration with their accustomed grace
Let them ride with the poise of veteran warriors
Because they took on evil at the gates
And licked our enemies before they could learn our secrets
Let them pride! let them make ako!

The dance of a mother is the dance of warriors
Her waist has the strength of nine palm trees
Let brightly colored ileke adorn her loins proudly
With the stance of a wrestler, she squats and begets life
And like a champion, she does it again and again!

Mother, your face has the profundity of a wellspring
It was from there I had my first taste of kindness
And at it’s depths I began to learn wisdom.
Like an ocean you can’t be subdued;
With a heart as large as life, you nurse a sickly child to health;
Your bosom is sweet and cozy, even if you don’t have a bed of straw;
Your fingers are resourceful; you teach and nurture.

If you’ve birth a child by your loins
If your paps have suckled and you’ve nurtured a family
Take the floor and mount our adulation gracefully
You are the foundations of our city; defenders of our heritage;
You are a breed of champions; our true heroes!

© 2010, poem by Tee Akindele