Kofi Sey

We sat down there

By the hut-dotted valley

For one long week

Staring into the dry river bed,

Which lay there

Like a disemboweled prehistoric monster

With all its rocky entrails  laid bare.

We sat down there and waited for the rain.


We sat down there

On the seventh day of the thirsty week

And waited and listened.


All was quiet,

The leaves had no strength to rustle.

The birds and beasts were too weak to utter a sound.

Meanwhile priests and priestesses

Before thei alares and shrines

Raised up supplicating hands

To heaven and to the heavens.


We sat down there

Waiting for the rain,

Watching the tantalising dark clouds

That had been enveloping the earth for day,

We sat down there

And waited

While birds and beats and vermin

Desertted their uncouth habitations

Heading towards the dry river bed

To wait for the rain.


We sat down there

Man and beast

With a single purpose

To wiat for the rain.


We waited, waited, waited




The dry valley burst out in a watery uproar.

Birds and beast raised up their voices

In songs of praise,

And the sons of men

Raised up themselves

From their seats and knees

And walked back home

In silence,

And in thankful contemplation ,

Strangely subdue.

They walked back home,

In silence.

There still was no rain

But there was roaring water

In the valley;

For God, they say;

Had been causing rain

Far far way.

US - Africa Literary Foundation

Chimdi Maduagwu, PhD
Executive Director
US-Africa Writers Foundation
Dr. Bode Osanyin
Chairman, Department of Creative Arts
University of Lagos
Department of Creative Arts
Akoka, Yaba
Lagos, Nigeria

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