The River is Drying Up

By: Keniwuru Merutepiaou

Africa, the river is drying up. 

You don't hear her drums any more!

There are no more songs being sung

Where is the African child dancing to the traditional beats?

The children have forgotten

The river is drying up

Africa, your tales were wild yet mystic

The soul danced at the mention of them. 

Where is mother's story now?

The children don't know the story!

The river is drying up

The child played in the savannah, 

Later, the child sat with the elder

Instructions were given, and on the other side, they were taken. 

But today, the elders are silent!

The river is drying up

Look at me now

I write with these foreign letters

I speak not with my mother tongue

Smartly, I wear fashions from beyond the ocean

I have forgotten the colorful flavours of African fashion

I can see my friend, she doesn't wear her own hair

She says the one grown in Asia is better

Meanwhile, the river is drying up. 

Ancestors, your blood still runs through us

But we don't call ourselves by your names

In fact, the things we call ourselves have no meaning

Our spirits are now nameless

We don't seem to realise

The river is drying up

~inspired by the Yoruba proverb

'A river that forgets its source shall surely dry up'

Written By: Keniwuru Merutepiaou