The Naming
The is much to gain from African knowledge, not least an understanding of how one’s ancestors can bless a life. We learn as much from Nigerian poet Chinua Ezenwa-Ohaeto, a PHD candidate in English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. His poems have earned attention in the pages of Frontier Poetry, Oxford Poetry, the Massachusetts Review, Poetry Ireland Review, and numerous other places. He is also the author of the chapbook The Teenager Who Became My Mother.
Teaching My Nephew
My sister and her baby once homed
with me when I was a bachelor.
It was late evening and it dawned on
us that we needed to placate our stomachs.
My sister handed me her baby
and went into the kitchen to make some food.
I had my sister’s baby in my arms. And close to my chest.
My heartbeats beat him out of sleep.
I cuddled him so my sister would not think a pinch happened.
My sister worried a lot then. Maybe it was a thing that
came with having a baby for the first time.
My heart was always heavy: heavy with
the things I carried in this small life.
I wanted to teach her baby a thing or two
about the heavy things I carried.
Perhaps, teach him about gardens rounding a bush.
Or teach him that every one of my heartbeats is not a wince or a wound.
Or teach him how things are never straight: how things
could be flower one night and something else another night.
Or teach him that there are things that come with growing up:
but I knew he would not understand. And I could not speak tah-tah-goo-goo-ga-ga.
So I planted my thick lips on his cheek
and hoped it would teach him a thing or two instead.
Reviewed by
Matt Sutherland
Disclosure: This article is not an endorsement, but a review. The publisher of this book provided free copies of the book to have their book reviewed by a professional reviewer. No fee was paid by the publisher for this review. Foreword Reviews only recommends books that we love. Foreword Magazine, Inc. is disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255.
