Adamu Danjuma
2 min readMay 27, 2021

Children’s Day

I can't write when, on my table, there's no rice,
Maltina drinks garnished with assorted spice.
I am that boy who hustles by day and by night;
Hawking water, I think my days will be bright.

Smelling the ugly smoke of the cooking pot,
Waiting for my salty soup to become very hot,
I embraced, from afar, the azure sky.
For a leadership post, one day, I might vie.

Dining beside my grandmother,
I remember my great-grandfather.
He was, I learnt, an acclaimed hunter.
He restored to our village its stolen laughter.

At 10, I never played a game called Ben 10.
Thirsty of wisdom, I want to drink from its fountain.
I don't know Balloteli and John Terry.
I don't know Ribéry, Tom and Jerry.

Nostalgically, my childhood memory
Came to visit me in a hurry.
It came with a bunch of its sorrowful tears.
Suddenly, I felt like reviving my yesteryears.

I remember how I used to run away
From snakes just to hide my body on the clay.
I am no longer a grown-up folk
But a pleasant child who likes to talk.

Of my childhood memory, I am verily proud.
My childhood memory is full of ins and outs:
Playing football on a broken glass,
Cooking dishes when there is no class...

I remember having a penchant for every corn.
And the sacrifices of so many people
Who used to give me mango and apple
And prayed for me when I was born.

I remember my parents
And their friends;
My own friends
And their parents.
May we all live joyfully
Smiling at each other in jollity.

Happy Children's Day:
Every child counts today,
And everyday!
Children, many cheers to your Day.

Adamu Danjuma

Adamu Danjuma
Adamu Danjuma

Written by Adamu Danjuma

Author of Les Larmes d'une Plume Esseulée, Adamu is a multilingual speaker & an emerging poet-writer. He's passionate about journalism & literature.

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