Haunted

by Dieworimene Koikoibo*

“As kids, my friends and I had this pastime where we guessed the age of a house

and, by mere looking at its roof, we’d guess right more times than not.

But the constant exhalation of Shell’s iron dragons has rusted all the fun.

Here, even newborn roofs colour like tobacco-teeth,

and the owners’ lives sprint like rivers late for the meeting with the Atlantic;

torrential journeys into vast emptiness.

Poor Port Harcourt: The Garden City is dressed in black soot like an undertaker,

as the final nail is driven into Air’s coffin and our streets, palms dusty & dark,

wave bye to fresh breath.

The other day, I read ‘…relief materials for…’, and I wonder:

Why throw life jackets at the fish drowning daily down the oily rivers,

instead of keeping the oil buried in the soil?

Stop ecocide!”

*About Author: Koikoibo draws ink from the depths of the Niger and writes by the riverside. He’s an attorney and an environmentalist with love for Art.