Ileya

By 

Abiodun Peter Ekundayo 

After Adedayo Agarau's Ileya 

It is that time of the year when old stereos cough up nostalgia; how else do you tell yourself it’s Christmas? I sit on a chair creaking from my weight and watch; Baba Tobi is always the first to come with a bottle of aromatic schnapps. There are ways to bless Christmas here; one is burning your liver in libation to your forebears. I see my mother dancing to Chief Commander's Odun Keresimesi. Jollof is ready. Tobi comes in ‘lofinda’-soaked polo, or what other ways are there to invite angels? I do not wear my Christmas clothes. I do not like the things that come with a Nigerian Christmas. People eat and give thanks to their maker, “May the coming year be better than this,” and weeks after, when school resumes, I am home watching TV. My father has too much debt to pay now. Tobi is in class wishing he were me. My father will look at me, and I look at the empty cartons of beer from Christmas.

Water Boys

‎In a land not too far from here, there is no liking boys, but I like boys. I like boys who stand at the edge of a moving boat and open their arms to freedom. Boys who understand the tune of water and ride the waves. Boys who know bullets and bodies best to hide them; this way, it's the prey telling stories about hunting the hunter. This way, even when the hunter paints the prey a weakling, the children will ask about lost families. I like boys, boys who know how to gyrate and dance around wildfire. Boys who turn elegies to psalms and treat every day like their last. ‎I like boys like my brother. Boys who sing fair. Farewell to the days gone by and aubades for the footprints to kiss this soil.  Little boys on the bank of these waters will become twilight, leaving their rays breaking through the horizon of houses up North. I like boys who run armed with an aftertaste of freedom. Boys who will run, run, run. Boys who like water. Boys who are water. Congo boys like my brother. I like boys. 

Bio: Abiodun Peter Ekundayo is a Nigerian dreamer whose dreams are bigger than his head. His works have been featured and are forthcoming in Persimmon Lit, Naked Cat, Inkspired, Outside the Box Poetry, and elsewhere. A reader for INKspiredNG, Abiodun believes fantasy is another form of reality. He writes from Lagos, Nigeria, tweets @21stSeraph, and shares reels on Instagram @_21stseraph