A man with a contrite heart,
Sat by quietly.
He whispered in our
Native tongue.
When I was thirteen;
He knew my face by heart.
What happened to our biological cord?
I wondered where he had gone.
He spoke about his wife,
Plus his sons and daughters.
We were decades apart:
‘That my character had improved.’
‘Proud that I adopted his chosen career.’
But when I wanted to share my woes,
He made sign that I speak not.
Whereupon one strange figure
Came to his defense. I repeated.
‘Am I the true blood of Shokoloko?’
He gently nodded.
A tinged cloud paused before us,
The lady rider was my grand-ma,
She hurried him to come over.
“Your grand children are approaching nine!”
I felt lonesome after they left,
I deeply wanted him to stay,
Two questions bombarded my head.
‘Why he claimed kindred with our heritage.’
‘How he understood the riddle of Shokoloko.’
