Stories From Young African Poets: “I Resented Poetry Growing Up”

…There was no middle man in poetry

There was no life

There was no sigh in between because you don’t feel like leaving the house…

Unlike all other stories, I don’t think I have a childhood story influencing my poetry. In any case, I resented poetry growing up. It was so rigid, and there wasn’t enough feeling or diversity.

Most were shallow, and it always felt like we were writing poems for children still learning a language rather than learning a life skill; poetry is deeper than that. There was much rhyme, which was the standard for poems, rhymes, and repetitive last lines. And it felt like living through the 1600s but for years without changing anything, just copying and remixing. So because I was ‘smart’ in class and a little rebellious, I got away with telling the teachers I would not do any of that reciting poems with other kids in class, which is a bad thing retrospectively, but I mean, utilize privilege when you can.

From this paragraph, the only thing my childhood did to my poetry, and generally me as a person, is that it affirmed me. I was praised by teachers and family members. I don’t know whether I was a good child. Still, I performed fairly well throughout, so I was seen doing “cool” things (what they mean is medicine and engineering). I was also used as an example to other kids because academic success was the only measure of success at the time. This boosted my confidence in life about what I can do, and since I was told I could do whatever I wanted, I am doing whatever I want.

Secondly, because I am my mother’s last child who has been pampered, I am assured of support and can always go home.

However, I use poetry to say exactly how I feel or express how it would feel. I don’t need names and stories; I need to describe the feeling and I don’t need to explain it further either. Because people relate to feelings more than experiences, different experiences can share the same feeling and because you can’t question art. Because art is sacred. You can maybe review and expound on it, but you cannot question its existence because, just like you, it deserves to be seen.

Humanity In Poetry by Ruth Mwanza.

I didn’t like poetry growing up 

I found it pretentious 

It preached fear, pain or a fairy tale

There was no in between

There was no middle man in poetry

There was no life

There was no sigh in between because you don’t feel like leaving the house

There was no tripping and falling for the wrong thing/person

There was no sitting by the park just grateful to see butterflies in such a long time

There was no heartbreak at midnight over someone you really hoped will be in your life long-term

There was no glimmer in my face when a well-known poet followed me on Instagram

There was no allowance to be sad especially when you’re in a happy relationship because everyone assumes being in a happy relationship is being happy

There were no moments where your hearts stops for a minute

There was no that sudden thought when you see a child of the one time you had an abortion 

There were no moments of humanity

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Hannah Omokafe Dennis

Hannah Omokafe Dennis Is A 24-year-old Journalist, Voice-Over artist and UNFPA Adolescent Sexual Reproductive Health Rights Advocate Living In Nigeria. She Currently Serves As A Community Manager In Konya Shamsrumi AndHas Some Of Her Written Works Published On Writer's Space Africa and audio stories on Genti media. She Enjoys Using Words And Her Voice To Tell Stories. She Tweets @Omokafe_forite.

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