Ẹ̀rukú Aanwo

Aanwo
Bóyá yíó dọmo
At least that was what they said

They didn't bank on me lasting this long
But they sure knew I would leave

They thought it would be sooner
Still, they waited so long for my demise




Seven days after anguish filled ingress
They said I ll be named Aanwo, torípé Ẹ̀rúikú ni
Without my consent and permission

My fate was decided by men and women
Men and women I barely knew
All it took was seven days

One decade of bathing in herbs and concoctions
Still I defied all the rules of Concordia

One decade of listening to mother
Under the ùbé tree, in still and Shadowless nights

One decade of being pampered and treated like god
Under the roof of a man who never smiled at me

One decade of gifts once every month for no apparent reason
As if they were some sort of ètùtù

What did they expect
They decided my life for me

Now here I am
In a shallow ditch close to the sand pit I once knew as play ground

Lying on my back and looking at a strange young man
Solemnly, yet savagely covering me in earth

My left arm hurts from the burn of my Father's hot machete
Two cowries in my right hand for the ferry man

They know I LL come back for them
Because I have always returned, and each time
With the scar from the burn of my father's hot machete

Aanwo n bòwá dọmo
Àsìkò ni ò tii tọ