Jul 2016
He came around every Thursday for alms,
This old ***** beggar from the North,
Father would host him under the tree,
He never missed his weekly sadaka;
But father breathed his last on Sunday,
Mother was distraught, besides herself,
Everyone said one good thing or the other,
Plenty tears to last his eighty earthly years;
So he ambles in like he would,
Sits under his usual shade,
Then someone says to him, "Baba yamutu..."
And he jumps up in raw exclamation!
Never seen such genuine show of surprise,
He truly expected the old man to live forever,
Much later, in quiet sorrow, pays condolences,
Picks up his satchel and stumbles into the sunshine.
This old ***** beggar from the North,
Father would host him under the tree,
He never missed his weekly sadaka;
But father breathed his last on Sunday,
Mother was distraught, besides herself,
Everyone said one good thing or the other,
Plenty tears to last his eighty earthly years;
So he ambles in like he would,
Sits under his usual shade,
Then someone says to him, "Baba yamutu..."
And he jumps up in raw exclamation!
Never seen such genuine show of surprise,
He truly expected the old man to live forever,
Much later, in quiet sorrow, pays condolences,
Picks up his satchel and stumbles into the sunshine.
"Baba Yamutu" in the Hausa language means the old man has died.
There's this beggar who has been coming to my father's home since 2002. But my father died on May 22, 2016 on a Sunday. The next Thursday when the beggar came around he heard the news of my father's demise and breaks apart. Of all the show of grief and sense of loss expressed, that of the beggar struck me as the most sincere and true.
There's this beggar who has been coming to my father's home since 2002. But my father died on May 22, 2016 on a Sunday. The next Thursday when the beggar came around he heard the news of my father's demise and breaks apart. Of all the show of grief and sense of loss expressed, that of the beggar struck me as the most sincere and true.
