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Of Happenings Estranged 

By Mathew Takwi*

It was the south-western oily creeks
Whose waters watered their appetite
And out explorers safely sailed to danger
Just to be hemmed-in like rats in a bag
By gang unknown and style anew
A novelty that pieces-out our piece
And for their oxygen fee sparkling bowl dropped
Then we wonder: why to Voltaire’s heirs?

It was the northern highlands parked with parks
Whose zoology and ecology sprayed fragrance
And out a family safely set spreading wide out
Caressing nature’s wonders in admiration unlimited
Just to be crabbed in sour sweet off lift
By gang estranged in manner unmannered
And for their oxygen legal tender tendered
Then we gape: why again to Voltaire’s heirs?

It was the northern Koran highlands yonder
Whose Bible frequency is rare but beckoning
And out a crucifix carrier in cotton-white cassock
Spraying Maker’s word to the people
A smiling watering can over tomato ridges
Just to be grabbed in mission forestalled
By gang unchained in mode outmoded
And for his oxygen bulged envelope glided
Then we ponder: why again and only to Voltaire’s heirs?

It was thrice to the same tongue
It was thrice to villagers of the same village
It was trice to the same slave master of yesterday and today
Whose captives deter him from garnering imposed share in projects
And perhaps roundabout sought to get without contracts
Paying rice for spiteful Voltaire’s stare
Provocative fondling and kissing of Bruce Lee’s kin
Then we stay and ruminate: why this from Voltaire’s heirs?

Poet Laureate & Playwright
Secretary General,
Anglophone Cameroon Writers’ Association
 

First published in The Post print edition no 01506

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