If I ever visited Cameroon
I'll aimlessly wander in its vast lands
Savouring every moment of its beauty
And marvel at the mysterious work of God's hand
If I ever visited Cameroon
I'll make friends with the grassfields of Bamenda
So I'll let to wander around its vast vegetations
Savour the green wonders of nature
I'll draw the last stroke on that portrait
In my dream I drew of Douala
Of the smiling little hills
Of which the power of the sun yields.
If I ever visited Cameroon
The last piece in that puzzle solved
For I will meet the true Savannah
A home to elephants, lions and hyenas.
Categories:
douala, 11th grade, 12th grade,
Form: Free verse
Come
Come
For
The lights have all disappeared
And the torch lamp’s weary
To block darkness
For
Darkness is eternity!
Light your red candle
O chase lonesomeness
The deep lonesomeness
By the soft sound of your voice
Your nightingale voice
And
Speak that Chinese
When you come
Come when the winds blow
Come when trees crawl
Come when birds sing
Of turtledove birds come
And
Come when I come
Let’s come together, all our life!
Oh, the night and the torch lamp
O at a dark night of a rainy season
And
At Elobi for a forlorn student
It’s strident.
Douala, June, 2014
Categories:
douala, bird, birth, love, romantic,
Form: Free verse
REMEMBER WHEATLEY
You called me dear a pagan land
When all my big sons in hand
In prayers fully drowned Allah they
Often quoted in their fated disarray
To the New World. Their masters
In true myths to rule were teachers.
Haley in his lively Roots with tear
I always read quotes not all beer
And skittles he brazenly brought
From your elders in boats caught.
Wheatley dear do you still bear
Grudges for the silent conspiracy
That drove you wildly westward
Launching to life my bankruptcy?
My freed sons deeming untoward
What happened to us backward
On me drew limitless churches
Some synagogues and mosques
Called Jehovah, God and Allah
In unison with molten voices risen.
Black as Cain is Christians’ view
For Islam in piety all men differ
The white as godly then thought
Even in books we are all taught
Was the settlers’ cunning taunt.
For black’s e’er painted diabolic
To mar the race’s true record as
Luther King pointed in thesaurus.
Remember Wheatley dear
In the West or in the East the least
We can say dear men are equal.
Douala, November13, 2014
JAAFAR SADIG EL WAAD
Categories:
douala, black african american, forgiveness,
Form: Free verse
I am Africa
I.
Distant
And lonely
I am
The barren land
Of untoward change,
The empty womb,
The amputated hands,
I am
The Maker of new worlds
I am
Africa.
I am
The broken voice
Of the tall woman who undid
The family knot
Set my caged birds free
And set traps to owls and falcons
I am
The step to freedom
I am Africa.
I am
Gorée
Dahomey
Porto-Novo
Bimbia
And the boat
That sailed to the New Land.
I am
The aftermath of revolutions,
Theories and tempests.
I am
The dark forest no longer at ease
The things fall apart
Hopes and impediments
Leurres et lueurs.
I am not
The other world of the Heart
Of darkness nor the wrath in
Return to my native land
I am
Neither Aids nor Ebola.
What then am I?
Or what else am I?
Douala, January 1st, 2014
Categories:
douala, africa, joy,
Form: Free verse
TWILIGHT
The winds are still blowing
It’s so cold inside. When will
You come, Maïrama, fresh and hot
With your light silk cloth,
Pierced and transpiercing?
The light with the coming twilight
Is dying out while singing birds
Are getting weary and weary.
The night’s dripping black and
It’s so thick inside. Who’ll
Hold me tight and heat
My crawling bones and blood
While you’re away oft reading
Oft serving some master?
Think twice else life will be unfair,
A heavy burden to overthrow.
Douala, 2012
JAAFAR SADIG EL WAAD
Categories:
douala, bereavement, devotion, future, love,
Form: Free verse
THE PYRAMID
That Night
At twilight
She swallowed
Her lips
And shook her…
O I soft drew
The Eiffel Tour
reversing it
from the above
Like a capsized
Pyramid to
Hold all the
pains and the
Spouting of
The lost soul.
Let it bleed
Life goes on
After all!
Douala, January, 2013
Categories:
douala, love,
Form: Free verse
Blighted Happiness
Our love is like a withered leaf
That lies on the brink of the river
Waiting for the winds or the waves
To swiftly be scattered and driven
Or for heavy rains or pearling dust
To be abruptly abrogated forever.
Our love like a withered leaf, bleeding,
May stand firm and clasp together
Or, oh Lord! Inescapably sink
In the sea of oblivion, melting.
Such is our destiny, for tiny souls
Have no rooms where dreams dwell
We walk filled with people’s many
Dreams, desires and fires and still are
Unable to grasp the meaning of being
Together!
Douala, January 14, 2013
Jaafar Sadig El Waad
Categories:
douala, lost love,
Form: Free verse