I am from the wild

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I am from wild

Can anything good come from the wild?

I have been flogged and shunned for this my whole life

What is so strange about my native identity?

Do you think I will ever bend the knee and lick your feet?

I bought my freedom with blood and flesh

I learnt to fast 24/7

And you think that was funny?

I slept in the wilderness my whole life

Getting numbed with mosquito bites and scorpion stings

And you think that was funny?

I drank urine and munched rats

I ate bats and earthworms for supper

And you think that was funny?

Hunger was my name and hate was my mother

Fear was my father and yet hope was my priest

And you think that was funny?

I am from the wild

Can anything good come from the wild?

I don’t care whether you say I ate moth

Since I am now free henceforth

The same red blood traverses my vein

That same coffee skin-tinge coats my body

And there won’t be a day that

You will be any different from me

I am a fighter, a struggler

Who has seen darker days than

You and your clan combined

I am from the wild

Can anything good come from the wild?

Well I got to tell you both

I am not a horse

I am a soul who seeks happiness

What is so dark and hateful about my home

That every time I make my submission

You say ‘you are from the wild?’

What makes you so special?

What does your god call the wild dwellers?

Trash of creation? A reject? Sons of the abyss?

Now what does your god call you?

Prince and princess of bliss?

I am from the wild

Can anything good come from the wild?

My vivid longstanding anger runs forth

My whole lineage suffered from

The same defamatory slang

And you think I that was funny?

I have been call all different names;

Charcoal, ladder, monkey, ugly

And you think I that was funny?

My home has been tagged

The place of terror and shuttered dreams

And you think that was funny?

Oh how I hate it!

I hate it that I can’t find a place

Because of my name

Oh how I hate it!

I hate it that I can’t sit at the same

Dinner table with the rest

Oh I hate it!

I hate it when my face is used

To represent the devil

Oh how I hate it!

I hate it when my people

Makes the definition of poverty

After all that we have gone through

One day, something good will come from the wild

Written by

Joshua .O. Obura

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