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

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