Poem by Judekelvin Igbonekwu
Strife and duty are two words for her how it surges on in dignity burnt from the endless heat of sulphur mines this skin stretches dark sheet from industry Make the pose an Elephant, her turmoil, her triumph from invaders she is burnt from the endless sunlight, her body is slavery and the lines tell a grand history of work My father works in a construction camp, each day he works as an elephant and gets poached in the eye he works too high and earns too little if there is dignity being industrious There, the trademark of suffering on my father’s glove dark and untidy and he surges on Life is ailing he says in this burnt glove but matches on, he has the endless will of an elephant. look closely, it is my father’s hand and not an elephant that is poached today look closely, his burnt skin from travail in sunlight he is ailing but matches on to fight this shutdown look closely, this time my father he lays in two nail fashion one is duty for work and the other is strife over his paycheck
