The Masked Poet

by Albert Enang Eng Usang

Today, I'm that right activist

  evangelizing your soulfulness:

  you have no right not to forgive.

  Many chose not to forgive

  above the option to forgive

  priding in their right to choose

  which truly they don't own

  but in the end fetch themselves,

  unwarranted release of bile

  mistimed rush of adrenaline

  swinging moods of melancholy

  locked chains of stagnation

  binding chords of resentment

  regressive mileages to the past

  invisible future impeding chasm

  all pointing to that one fact:

  you have no right not to forgive.

  You have no right not to forgive

  one such right you don't have

  but you have every right to forgive

  it is the alternative to the former.

  Just like the right to life means

  an obligation not to take life

  the obligation to forgive means:

  you have no right not to forgive.

  While he read out the poem, she had time to take a very close look at him when reading a written poem for the first time. But she could only admire his beautiful orange mask which has fast become his alternative face. Nevertheless, she wasn't just looking; she listened as she looked. At the end of the poem, she tendered a verdict of accolades

  'Another wonderful one by the word magician.' She lauded after he announced the end of the poem. 'I've never thought of it that way you know.'

  'Thanks. I just hope it fulfils its purpose on you.' He responded.

  - Well, I'm sorry to inform in the case at hand, it won't.

  - Really? Okay, I respect your decision but much later, why not give it a second thought?

  - Look MP, it is not that I can't forgive or that I'm so hardened that I don't like forgiving. You see, your poem highlights quite a different situation from the one I'm faced with.

  - How?

  - It is an advise with regards to a misunderstanding or a hurt for which circumstances we truly have to learn to forgive. But my case is specifically neither about a misunderstanding or a hurt.

  - What is it about?

  - It is about a decision regarding my future; a very pivotal decision which makes no room for sentiments, but rather, pragmatism. Truth is, l hold no grudge against Victor. We would still be friends if he were a true gentleman, it's just he cannot be so civilized. But as it pertains to making a choice as to the kind of man I would like not to end up with, my mind is made up and it so so different from the issue of forgiveness. Or, don't I have a right to that choice?

  - Well, what more can l say? Beauty and brains! I see reason with you.

  - Thank you, the reasonable one who is also timeous as regards pestering.

  - Sorry, I didn't quite get you; can you repeat that?

  - You? Don't dare pull my leg! I know you heard me quite alright.

  - Ha ha ha ha ha..... ...... The statement was so poetic I needed you to say it again but you got me on my tracks. That was a lovely line though, like a certain lovely queen.

  - Oooops!........ I certainly gushed!

  - But then, there are still issues to settle.

  - Over what

  - Your decision to quit your relationship.

  She loved the dimension the conversation suddenly assumed. Maybe the man in him, that hunter trait in every man, has been triggered as by very fortunate circumstances, a beauty queen became suddenly available, free, and up for grabs. But little does he know he is the reason she made that firm decision to unassailably dump Victor, and she hoped today will be the day she's been waiting for; when he will tell her he loves her. Trust him! He would say that in a very special way she can only imagine.

  'If it is going to be with a poem, what a poem that will be!' She thought.

  Anyways, one thing is clear, she wouldn't waste a moment in responding affirmatively to such a request so her dream relationship could finally get started! Moments like this could be quite uncomfortable and she tried very hard to hide her fidgeting.

  'How exactly do you mean?' She asked with expectant and glowing eyeballs.

  'Two things:' He replied. 'But let's deal with the first; I'm not sure Victor's done yet. Any contingency plans against his antics?

  - Yes. I will make sure to explore all legal means available to me to the fullest. With the possibility of litigation looming, he may have no choice than to face reality and move on.

  - Okay. Then the second issue.

  - Which is?

  - What happens to your love life now?

  She was slightly disappointed he didn't take up the initiative of requesting to fill her life's loveless gap. But on second thoughts, she reasoned it was a bit too hasty to make conclusions.

  'Of course someone has to fill it!' She shrugged off the slight disappointment to instead give a hearty reply. 'I love love, you know.'

  - Hmmnnn........ Have you found him already?

  Another disappointing statement. She was tensed. 'What is wrong with this young man? Why can't he get straight to the point?' She whispered in her mind.

  'Nooo! Not yet.' She overcame her tenseness with much pretence. 'I've just come out of one as you can see.'

  'Whoever it is going to be, he sure would be the luckiest man yet alive.' He asserted.

  Yet another disappointing trend.

  'Ermm..... Yes...... He sure would be.' She sputtered

  'All the best then as you take your time to await him.' He wished her.

  This was the nail on the coffin.

  'Thank you, my friend!' She reciprocated with a sly smile.

  Immediately, she concluded the Masked Poet must be in a secretive relationship. How can a man who has been showering her with the most lovely poems, leading her on, suddenly renege on a golden opportunity as this? Or, was he testing her? Or taking his time? Or is he feeling inferior too? She must find out one of these days, the foremost; which is if he is in a relationship. Or how else would he feign a blind eye to all her brilliant green lights?

  'What about you?' She charted. 'Are you in a relationship?'

  'No. None yet.' He replied.

  - Really? Why? You sure need a partner by your side to augment you.

  - I know, but I'm still not ready for one yet.

  - Does it have anything to do with an ugly past relationship?

  - No. I've never dated before.

  - Is that so? Then you must be a virgin?

  - I am.

  - And so am l too!

  - Oh! Really? You mean you never did it with Victor?

  - No. We agreed to leave it unbroken till the wedding night.

  - And he agreed to that?

  - Yes. Just like you suggested, he does have his good sides. That was one of them. Because he loved me so dearly, he was ready to wait.

  - How unfortunate now.

  - Well, such is life; we propose, God disposes.

  - You see now why I said the guy coming next will be the luckiest?

  - Just a little correction; virginity doesn't make one the best partner, or lover, or even spouse.

  - True, but not with this beauty, brains, and biblical seated before me!

  - Ho ho ho ho ho.......... You flatter me....... But talking about you; why don't you want to have a relationship?

  - Did you watch me at the last literary contest?

  - Yes I did.

  - Those reasons I gave for not having a girlfriend yet, still stand.

  - But have you considered the fact there are lots of girls out there, virgins too, who would be comfortable with that and wait till you get married? Not all girls are sex freaks you know.

  - True, but many had such thoughts but were overwhelmed in the end, having nothing but regrets. So I think the closer it gets to marriage, the better for everyone.

  - When then, do you intend to get married?

  - It hasn't crossed my mind yet; I'm all ab
out making money for now.

  - That's open. You never can tell a stunner could come along and make you change your mind.

  - For marriage yes, that's possible. But certainly not for sex.

  - Of course, that is what I mean. Marriage is ultimate in all.

  - So be it then.

  - Whatever, I'm happy no girl will attack me whenever I am with you!

  - Like Victor did you mean?

  They both gave it a good laugh.

  'Ermm...... MP, there is something I want you to do for me.' She pleaded.

  'For the queen?' He asked rhetorically. 'Anything for her!'

  - You know, Fathers' Day is this Sunday. Can you please write me a poem for my father?

  - A poem! Only a poem? That's okay.

  - Ermm..... Can you make it two?

  - Ehhh...... Looks I'm in the middle of something unending! Okay, two poems then, only if there won't be a third.

  - Ha ha ha ha......... There isn't going to be a third.

  - All well and good then; two poems for your father.

  - One more thing.......... Pleaseeee..........

  - Ah ah!.........

  - It's not a poem o.

  - Okay. I'm listening.

  - You'll follow me home and read it to my father yourself.

  - No problem.

  - He is not in Abuja o.

  - What? Where does he live?

  - Together with my mum, they are retired civil servants and live in my hometown, Assiga, Yakurr L.G.A. of Cross River State.

  - It is good they are educated. Well, that makes it a special, special, outdoor....

  - Don't worry, I will pay all due charges.

  - Good girl! You know, 'no broda* for business o*, and no friend as well!

  - Very much understood.

  - But you missed out on Mother's Day. I wrote two as well. One for a social club who hired me and the other for my mum.

  - Really? No, my mum can't miss out. Though belated, you'll read

  *broda(pidgin = brother) *no broda for business (no brotherly considerations when doing business)

  those to my mum too.

  - No. I'll read only one for her. The other was and remains specially for my mum.

  - First, can I please see them?

  - Yes, let me open my lap top.

  She went through them and was afterwards pleading:

  - Please MP, just do it for a friend; also read the one specially for your mum for my mum too, pleaseeeee...... It is as good as the general, I can't choose between both. I'll pay double pleaseee....

  - That's okay. No extra charges, just the normal fees. You know, anything for the queen.

  - Thanks my friend........... But there is a little observation: you've only

  spoken about your mum and the poems you wrote for her, what about your dad? Aren't you writing him one?

  - Yes, I won't be writing him any.

  - Seriously? Why? Aren't you two on good terms?

  - No.

  - Then what could be the reason?

  - It's a long story.

  - Thankfully, today, I'll know if I'm a true friend to you; just give me a brief of the story.

  - I actually don't have a dad.

  - What? Is he deceased?

  - No. He rejected me.

  - Oh! I'm so sorry. But was it your mum's pregnancy of you he denied

  or he absconded or something?

  -.Neither. It was at my birth; he instanly rejected me as soon as my mother was delivered of me.

  - Why did he do that?

  - Lets leave it for now. I don't want to evoke buried memories.

  - Okay, okay, I understand. But I guess, he will be regretful now seeing the great man you have become.

  - May be. But I don't know his whereabouts.

  - I'm truly sorry.

  - It's okay. Lets drop it now...... ....

  CHAPTER 18

  In Assiga New Town, the Masked Poet, surrounded by the Sames, read the first poem to Delight's father after church service on Fathers' Day which he titled: 'FATHERLY, YET EMOTIONAL.'

  It is true

  like everyone knows

  fatherhood isn't easy

  a burden of responsibilities

  only the stout hearted can dare

  It is as now

  like it is everywhere

  fathers are saddled

  with an extra heavy burden

  by society, also by themselves

  I know of a man

  who in the morn'n

  wears a very bold face

  but in the night

  he cries so bitterly

  because his wife left

  amidst teething hardship

  as he lost his job

  this man, this father, it turns out,

  is a very close neighbour.

  I know of a man

  who in the open

  boasts all is well

  but in the secret

  he weeps quite loudly

  cos his children are idle

  unable to pay their fees

  this man, this father, it turns out,

  is my father's bosom friend.

  Abraham Lincoln

  remember him? Yes you should!

  upon his demise from earth

  an ancient box was discovered

  right in his private room

  containing a written article

  by a renowned journalist

  lauding his leadership senses

  but Lincoln, in the overt

  will appear indomitably brave

  like he needs no commendation

  yet Lincoln, in the covert

  will feast on this article

  for inspiration and encouragement.

  So, this is for all fathers

  who have been denied by society

  who have been denied by culture

  and invariably, denied themselves

  love, encouragement, inspiration,

  just because they say

  'a man should not be emotional.'

  Thus, I say to you father,

  'I love you daddy'

  even though you'll say

  'tell that to women!'

  but I say it anywhere

  cos I know thereafter,

  you'll be comforted by it.

  I say to you father,

  'you are the best'

  even though you'll pretend

  'it doesn't pay school fees!'

  but I say it anywhere

  cos in your recesses

  you'll be encouraged by it.

  I say to you father,

  'you are indispensable'

  even though your ego

  won't permit a 'thank you'

  but I say it anywhere

  cos I know behind me,

  you'll boast of it to friends.

  This is for someone out there

  who loves his father,

  who loves her father,

  appreciate your father

  with cars, clothes, money

  but most importantly,

  like icing on a cake

  send him words of love

  send him words of encouragement

  send him words of inspiration

  send him words of comfort

  though he may not admit openly

  yet still, upon his bed

  such words get him pleased

  such words make him proud

  giving him invaluable satisfaction.

  'I see you are expecting more, but this is where it ends.' The Masked Poet told them after he stopped reading upon the poem's last line, raised his head to observe they were all still looking intently at him.

  A reactionary laugh followed his ending information along with a rapturous applause from the small family.

  'This is wonderful!' Mr. Oju Same remarked. 'Young man, you just tore into a father's psyche, particularly the African father's in a way I've never heard; and your combination of words, its arra
ngement, and style makes it sweet and breathtaking!'

  - Ermm........ Actually sir, figuratively, I'm not the one who read the poem.

  - Is that? How do you mean? I saw and heard you read it!

  - Literally I read it, but figuratively, it is a poem from your daughter to you. She only asked I help her read it.

  - But who wrote it?

  - I did sir.

  - Let me get something clear here; you sell poems?

  - It is my source of livelihood sir.

  - Okay, I get it know: my girl thought of offering me something special and thus, sought your services?

  - Very accurate.

  - However it is delivered, this arrangement of words is exhilarating. Thank you my daughter, l feel elated. And you too young man, thank you.

  'Daddy, we, I mean 'I' as has been explained, am not done yet; l or we, have another set of words to celebrate you with.' Delight gleefully told her father.

  'Is that?' Her father answered excitedly. 'I can't wait then!'

  - Over to you then, Masked Poet.

  'At your command, father and daughter!' Replied the Masked Poet. 'This one is titled: 'PAPA OYOYO*.'

  Once upon a time

  my loving father went on a sojourn

  compelled by duty's call

  it turned out, a long sojourn

  and father may take very long.

  On this oppressors swarmed in

  to deprive me of my heritage

  because father was away

  bullies brought many threats

  even beating me up sometimes

  because father was away

  the evictors threw us out

  the shanty, our new abode

  because father was away

  then came the busybodies

  to rub it in, to my face

  because father was away

  but to all these I reminded:

  'I'm waiting for my papa.'

  So, they laughed at me

  while I wait for my papa

  they mocked and mocked

  as I await my papa

  they cursed and scorned

  still, I await my papa

  *oyoyo(pidgin = is back or has come back)

  I also fasted and prayed

  as I awaited papa's return.

  This is because I know

  my father, my papa, is a great man

  my father, my papa, is very able

  my father, my papa, is a warrior

  my father, my papa, is vengeful