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Dedicated
to my mother Rozetta Zleh Goah
Woman of Zleh Town
Saturday, May 9, 2009
By: Bernard
Gbayee Goah
Old
woman of Zleh town,
How great art thou in all you do.
You
work the forest from morning to night,
From
Sinagboa creek to Donie creek, Creeks that feed
sons
and daughters of Gbao.
You
need no GPS to navigate,
Neither
do you need a compass to know north and south,
For
your north and south are in your head,
From
knowledge passed down to you from old.
You
know where the palm farms start and end,
And
the swamp farms you know as well.
So,
there is nothing to worry about.
When
December nights get so cold,
And
you return with joyous heart and thoughts,
With
a fishing net hanging on your shoulder,
Where
you go to fish so far from town.
Your
movement seem to be so slow,
Helplessly
you walk due to heavy weight,
That
falls on the basket behind your backs,
Full
with cat fish and fire fish as well.
You
come to know that you must hurry,
Faster
and faster you try to walk,
Because
darkness is about to fall.
Although
you know darkness comes so quick,
Your
hope of light comes from above,
From
the light that lights the sky,
From
a large fufu high in the sky,
During
the darkest moment of the night.
You
march head up towards your hut ,
Like
a lioness that returns from the hunt.
But
unlike a lioness who body needs no bath,
You
must wash the mud off your body,
And
wash away the scent of wild bread fruit leaves as well,
Those
scents that stick on clothes like gum.
You
must sit and clean your fish,
From
the warmth and comfort of your kitchen,
Where
the fire hearths are red and hot.
Then
a glimpse of a smile appears,
Upon
your face as your heart cheers,
To
show appreciation of your hard work.
You
lie and rest your head in bed to sleep and wait,
For
the morning light that must come to pass,
To
start your journey all over again.
In
deed I love the old woman of Zleh town.
Written
by: Bernard Gbayee Goah Email: bgoah76@yahoo.com
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