An African Dreamer's Dilema

I dreamt of what I could be when this faithful deluge give up when my day finally breaks My bamboo bed tripled its size and has only few sticks still left Behold! the depth of father’s grave came forth; so also the forestalled hopes of grieving mother still in her mourning cloth I could smell the tantalizer grandmother once prepared for father oblivious what next day portended for us When the hard nocks of the rain broke through my thatched roof and ceaselessly came in droplets on my brow It furrowed to clearer vindication The light I saw shorn so bright to be true every thing in me soothed and I knew I was coming closer to where it all started. Finally I arrived the dingy room where grand father always sat alone resting his fragile neck looking at the world. He ceaselessly crunched at his well separated teeth scolding and questioning his unseen guests Un-seeable guests who claimed his only son only last year they still want the remaining contract performed Ridiculous. Callous I imagined grandfather Must be telling them. I imagined Okosisi would dare the spirits and refuse to die at least for my sake whatever the cult may say. The strands of his hair hung somewhere in mother’s kitchen and she knows the price we shall all pay if that loop is mistakenly eaten by the fire I imagined Okosisi would dare the spirits and stick to his gun and refuse to die and if he lives and the spooks demand me who will continue the family tree?.