Till We Meet Again:

A letter to my father.

Dear Dad,

When your eldest son was 10,

Mama gave birth to your last born

on the 7th of February 1988,

7 months after you passed on.

I was only a year and a few months old.

Everyone says 

I cried a lot every time you left for work.
I enjoy the feeling of how I felt about you,

but for some reason,

I get mad at myself for not having any memories about you.

But I strongly feel like I know you.

Maybe because mama tells me stories about you.

Everything about you.

From the simplest things like how you talked
and how my young brother walks just like you,

to the  most inspiring staff like how you chose to go to war and,

how you were so motivated and determined

to fight for the independence of our country.

But now the war stories get her upset,

because of how that freedom is abused today.
Highest levels of corruption, limited provision of basic services

and leaders employing hate speeches on one another.

But maybe she's just mad at me....

And the rest of my generation.....

Coz we never stand and fight for real change so maybe....

Just maybe.... She's right.

I feel as if we are the weakest generation ever.
We never question, object, challenge or protest,
instead, we hide behind civilization
As if fighting never brought any progress
We spend hours texting and taking selfies to update our WhatsApp profiles
Computer literate guys use their pop-cultural imaginations to create funny memes about our so-called leaders
and suddenly, (because the internet is making us foolish)
we laugh, retweet, insta and share on our Facebook.
while tribalism, unemployment and inflation keep spreading like a wildfire

Anyway, I pray for mama and I pray for my brothers,
I pray for your grandkids and I always ask the Lord to bless my hustle.
I want to believe and I hope there is life after death.
Because I'd love to meet you again