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THEME: FOOD ‘N’ CULTURE
EMMANUEL KARIBI OBUALA
Culture is she that makes
us who we are, the sculptor
that moulds our personalities
i am African, and there’s a
uniqueness entailed in me
it makes me peculiar, unlike
others. Yes, my complexion
tells me apart from others
not African, but it is my culture
that defines me as in me from
my culture is ‘African’
my brethren also, so ought
to be, but they’re found
a way of life according them
finer than who we’re
and so for it our culture they
abide in no more, for they
say they’ve met the true way
in the whiteman’s culture
In my culture are many quisines
and delicacies, sumptious dishes
richly nutritious, and yummy
in my culture are many fastitious
pots of fine food, meals with
which hearts are won over.
©EMMANUEL KARIBI OBUALA
TITLE; CONJURER OF TASTES
The food always taste like heaven
Whenever it’s the shadow of a mother
Emerging from a smoke filled kitchen,
With eyes, red, counting every flicker of red petals
Springing forth from firewood.
There’s a way the food tastes
When she shakes the invisible dust from her palms
Into a hot gurgling pot-
The last valiant recipe, if denied,
shall only mar all the nights of hardwork and vigil
In sorting carefully every good grain of guinea corn.
There’s a way the jollof tastes
When mother tells you to use your fingers,
For in that lies a connection
That only mothers who know
The deep secrets of tastes can decipher.