THEY HAVE ONLY ONE CHILDHOOD, LET IT COUNT

THEY HAVE ONLY ONE CHILDHOOD, LET IT COUNT

You start having sleepless nights

“ My responsibilities are now heavy cross

I refuse to suffer alone

I need extra hands"

These thoughts begins to gain grounds

What were you thinking during conception?

She will say:

“ My husband will not let me be”

But you opened those legs?

And he will say:

“The strength of a man 

Is measured by the number of children he has"

Myopic

Then these creatures are born

Not to a friendly world

Equally not to a loving home

Born to carry their own cross

After all

“When they suffer, 

They will know how to spend money wisely"

Ignorance

Illiteracy

Foolishly they are sent out

To be devoured by

"Hoodlums

Wolves

Peepholes"

They begin to adapt

With their innocent eye’s,

They capture obscene scenarios,

They witness epic violence

The onus to survive

They never seem to taste the four walls of a school

Good food are tasted one’s in a blue moon

The taste of meatballs

Just little

Makes them want more

Oliver Twist

Under the scorching sun,

They are forced to compete

With the real world

The struggle for survive

Is real

Then those "uncle's"

Come

“Fine baby

Sweet

Beautiful"

She’s shy

As innocent as she looks,

She trusts so much

That “uncle”

Buys her a plate of food

Buys her ear rings,

Ice cream

Mhmmmmm

Gradually

She begins to confide in him

She tells he her dreams

Her family situation

She professes her love for him

He gains the better part of her 

Boom

It happened so fast!

Those clothes were ripped out!

Her panties

Went down!

Shy 

He promised her

Heaven and Earth

Innocence

He moves inside of her

Takes her virginity

Argh

The taste of it 

That pleasure

She craves for more

She comes for more

Sent to the Market,

She sneaks 

To get just one chunk

Mother and father

They can’t find out?

Questions aren’t asked

She sells so fast

She’s supportive

Sells very fast with profit

They seem to be blinded by money

She begins to rot

Her brother begins to have friends

Big boys

You know

They tell him of a better life

One without stress

They tell him

They  rich are “wicked and Selfish”

He begins to get peanut

He kills!

That taste of human blood

It’s aroma

That site of real blood

Makes him proud

And it’s normal to kill

No conscience

He wants to belong

Then they go for the rich

“Cozy beds

Dinning tables

Toy’s

Love”

They have never experienced such

They kill

Out of bitterness

Hatred

Greed

She becomes pregnant!

A child with a child!

Her lover has fled!

She keeps the baby

She continues in the footsteps of her parents

No plans for a better life

No future

No ambitions

Waste

Her brother is caught

Although he pleads for mercy.

Beaten to a stupor

He’s burnt on a steak

Jungle Justice

He can’t rewrite his wrong

Another scape goat

Another criminal

Lessons aren’t learnt

More are sent like ashes blown by the wind

Scattered

They take the role of Parenthood

At that tender age

They work

Sweat

Hustle

They are made strong.

Disappointed

Few vow to make a difference 

Very few

Are made wise 

Even with the influence of the hash society

Their childhood is ruined

Rooming around the highway

Shouting

Running

Some have been knocked down

Some kidnapped

They beg

To help their mum

Hitting hard on car windows,

They cry

With their memorized anthem

They recite in melancholy

“Help, help”

With heavy tray 

Carrying loads

Seeing movies at film shops

Admiring flashy cars

They stop to count those cars

Some even claim own

Looking tattered and unkempt

Famished 

Dirty

They trek long distance

With lifeless slippers

They struggle hard

They want to survive

In the jungle,

All man for him self!

Written by

Odoh Priscilla