In my mother’s house
We are warriors on a battlefield
But we don’t know what our enemies look like.
There are ways to fight battles with the unseen:
– do not miss a word from the scripture,
– do not let an old woman touch your head,
– break your tongue into screams of decree when you hit your face on cobwebs,
– do not answer calls from unknown voices,
– drink the blood of Jesus till you begin to throw up.
Mother said it’s us against the whole world;
Everyone in our father’s house wants to dinner with our heads garnished with pepper.
She said the world is a bad place, yet we fought death everyday.
There are ways to please my mother:
– do not attempt to be dissulutioned,
– believe in witches and wizards more than yourself,
– do not hold an opposite sex’s hand even in dreams,
– do not watch any secular movies other than Korean and Philippine,
– hate Olamide, Simi, Rihanna, Adele and every musician that doesn’t sing like Senwele Jésù.
Everything that screams at night reminds me of home.
I do not know those things- they follow us everywhere we go.
Mother said they are demons being burnt by the holy ghost.
I search everywhere at dawn, there are never traces of ashes.
I’ll wake up one Sunday morning and stop believing in Jesus,
In Churches, preachers and everything that makes me different from heathens-
Perhaps, mother’s beliefs are just fallacies I have to destroy.
Because it’s night again; no demon, no fire, only still air and bright stars on the dark sky.