Today, November 20, 2020, marks the 25th anniversary of the killing of leader of the Movement for the Survival of the Ogoni People, Kenule Saro-Wiwa, by the Sanni Abacha junta. Here is an excerpt from IREMOJE: Ritual Poetry for Ken Saro-Wiwa, in which performance poet, Akeem Lasisi, pays him a tribute in the tradition of the Yoruba hunters’ dirge:
IN THE ABSENCE OF THE TERMITE
In the absence of the termite,
They shun the artistry of the anthill
In the absence of the bee,
They shun the art of the hive
But in the sudden absence of the maverick cricket
The world should remember the classical elpees of its resonant wings:
Archaeologists of posterity,
We shall dance back into Kenule’s library
To warm the living theses of the broken pen:
For whatever befalls the sea befalls the fish
Whatever befalls the sky befalls the bird
Whatever befalls our tropical forest,
Befalls the acrobatic chimpanzees on the tropical trees.
This is Basi and Company,
An impeccable comedy of Lagos rats
When Madam says it is a matter of cash
Basi says a matter of tricks
This is Basi and Company,
That infallible comedy of Lagos rats.
Whatever befalls the sea befalls the fish …
If you really love the bride of the rope
Have you perused a month and a day
Have you cultivated a forest of flowers
If you cherish the fallen martyr of African tales?
This is Sozaboy
A rotten tale in a rotten tongue
The story of a civil lad
Lured into evil intrigues of power duel:
This is Sozaboy,
A rotten tale in a rotten tongue.
Whenever you see a man above the world,
He has a pipe between his lips.
This is the pipe of the murdered poet
With which he warmed his way into nature’s lap.
With smokeless incense telling the vanity of living without a life
Kenule spent every breath to prove a sage’s point
That if the autumn is cool it is a function of man
If spring is hot, the making of man:
This is the pipe of the murdered poet
With which he warmed his way into nature’s lap.
Whatever befalls the sea befalls the fish
Whatever befalls the eyes befalls the nose
Wherever is our own African sky
That boomed our barns at the harvest time?
Whatever befalls the back befalls the chest
Why are the gutters so open
With toxic breath of migrant oils?
