Garri: The Unacknowledged Recipe For Africa’s Greatness
A freestyle poem dedicated to Nigerians — and Africans — around the world.
Incepted from the creativity of African mothers.
Honed to combat inanition.
Her worth unknown for two centuries and another.
For her, Nigerians crave.
Presented in varying colors and texture, her unparalleled flavor we savor.
For her sake, children in diaspora yearn.
Doctors and nurses, inventors and investors, she nurtures.
Oh! How she felt for every smile we wore.
With accessories or not, she was there to fight our stomach’s sore.
Our satisfaction, boundless.
Our memories, spotless.
Soured and sweet, we had her.
Generations resting on her shoulders.
Worthless, she seems yet in hunger for her renowned men calmly shudder.
On her watch, flakes and pops of western descent famed.
Her glory ripped off, her relevance unseen.
In shame, she watches her children glorify the famed.
Disrespect loomed around her, from the children she nurtures.
Deep in the future, she gazes with sunken eyes.
Sunken in self-loathe, yet warm and welcoming when the poor child cries.
For the renowned and wistful, she regales.
For the homeless and aspiring, she caters.
She’s love; she’s tolerance.
Honed from the creativity of Africa’s greatest mothers.
Indeed, she’s Africa’s most fabulous recipe.
