Kojo Ginaye Kyei

 My father goes a – hunting tonight.

Mother has stuffed his   haversack

With mashed plantain, spiced with

Fish, pepper, onions, salt and beef

For his lone recluse in the

Deep night of snakes and scorpions

On the jungle gloom.


My father goes a-hunting tonight.

And again, mother takes to

Her sour bed,

Worrying and praying

Wake – keeping for her man.


My father goes a-hunting tonight.

Sometimes his efforts are

Only a wild goose gaze.

Rain drops hit like bullets,

Drench him, cold and shivering,

Far away from human abode.


My father goes a-hunting tonight,

And the community  is agog

Awaiting bush meat;

Yet his only shot

For the whole night

Might turn out to be just

The reflection from

His hunting light in

The  shiny, bright eyes

Of a rat!



Kojo Gyinaye Kyei

I have been a victim of chance

Helpless, I watched

An idle timeserver

Leave me stranded

On the ticket

Of uncle inheritance.


I have been

A victim of  indifference.

When once my father departed,

Custom cast me adrift;

But in my knapsack,

I carried

The tools of Fareday

To pry about my way.

I have seen

The smile of pain:

I have seen custom

Cut off my mother

With a shilling

Once my father

Was no more.

I have seen custom

Cut her off

From the very cocoa farms

That calloused

Her sweet, soft palms;

My mother, cut off from

The very mains

That creased

Her youth and brow.

US - Africa Literary Foundation

Chimdi Maduagwu, PhD
Executive Director
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University of Lagos
Department of Creative Arts
Akoka, Yaba
Lagos, Nigeria
mobile +234-802-306-5924
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