An Eze with no heir.
Aissatou’s words cut like blade.
The road home was long,
but the memory stayed.
No Niri born fears war.
No Niri born fears death.
No Niri born fears dust.
But I am an Eze with no heir.
If I leave this world,
what happens here?
Seven harvests, no cry in this house —
The wind dey answer when I call my wife out loud.
The thunder on my chest, the Eze of Canis,
But the cradle still empty, never was, never is.
My father's ghost pace the compound where I used to run;
He counts the sons he fathered, then he counts the sons I've none.
Brother one ran East, for another nation's embrace;
Brother two lie down cold — I still dey see him face.
Middle son carry weight, the hinge between the gate;
If I break, the lineage fall — na me dey hold our fate.
Chineke — if you listen to a man in the dark —
Take this from her chest. Place it on my back.
Let Canis call me cursed. Let the Kamanu line end.
Let them whisper I am broken. My body will mend.
I will be the Eze without an heir — if that is the price.
Let my father's ghost watch me and judge — if that suffice.
I came in. She was humming by the flame.
The song her mother sang the morning she took my name.
Four sisters she had. I could have chosen any one.
I took the one whose eyes stared straight into the storm.
My father's shadow will not rest.
The Kamanu name — a drumbeat that lives only in my chest.
The eldest ran to Sine. The youngest took the blade.
The line of Canis ends the day I am laid
in the ground.
The whispers came. A solution dressed as care:
"Another wife would solve it. Canis demands an heir."
I drew my axe. "Ijele is not cursed. The curse is not in her.
The next man who gives her blame — I bury him right here."
That night I lay beside her. She smiled for my sake.
"Chineke's time is coming," she said. But my vow began to shake.
That night I lay beside her. She smiled for my sake.
"Chineke's time is coming," she said. But my vow began to shake.
Chineke — if you listen to a man in the dark —
Take this from her chest. Place it on my back.
Let Canis call me cursed. Let the Kamanu line end.
Let them whisper I am broken. My body will mend.
I will be the Eze without an heir — if that is the price.
Let my father's ghost watch me and judge — if that suffice.
I will be the Eze without an heir — if that is the price.
Let my father's ghost watch me and judge — if that suffice.
But take it from Ijele. Take the burden from her womb.
Give her peace. I will carry her grief down to my tomb.
The line ends here. The line. Ends. Here.
Before I trade her name for an heir, make my name disappear.