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POEM: Brikama, my sweet hometown
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POEM: Brikama, my sweet hometown

Brikama, if you were a man, you’ll be my first love
And the consort I shall choose in Jannah

But since you’re no man
I’m thankful to be a daughter of your titanic womb
No age, no distance, no good times, no sad days or willing hours 
Can make me forget you, my dear hometown

I think of your star-filled night skies and your momentous evenings 
That follow sun-filled mornings of chirping birds 
I can see again the gallant moon slowly navigating your expansive 
skies like a lover unwilling to let go

The town of the feisty navetaan races
Of eager summer drummings and colourful parades and
Box- bar jingles 
Home of the Saraba Boys, tsars of the goal post
Your sprinting daughters, Madams of endless trophies

Pious men and women were drawn to your welcoming doorsteps
To hold you in prayers 
That God chooses you as the land of the people 
Birther of revolutions and Fighter of Injustice and Home to all
The grace of the nation

I lack the magic of the Mboob girl ‘s voice
Singer of the lovely melodies 
The pride of my hometown
What better can I do than being your Jali though lesser than Nana
But for your love I shall learn the art from the golden legacies 
Of grandpa Jali Amadou Bansang
The master of Koro and the voice from heaven

I bring you to New Town
Home of the two Talibaas
Near the edge of street lies Khan Kunda, the home of my birth
Next to Jarju Kunda where Mba Amino’s motherly grace watched us play 
And swim along the rolling sands that charm
the playground for jubilant youngsters
Who won’t recall stories of Rasta?
The stunning Jinn Queen 
In her late night promenades watching over New Town
Ah! the curious tales of the jinn lovers 
Carousing as the two Talibaas embrace in the death of night 
celebrating their bountiful union

My lovely hometown I sing to you
The grandeur of your spirit, land of hospitality
Your beauty never fades
Not even when the Sahara coughs out its displeasure
And spews its dusty phlegm beyond the Atlantic to your doors
Leaving you with white faced children and dusty limbs
Who resent cold December baths
But everyone will tell you Brikama never annoys !

Your motherly glory forever resigns supreme
I will never give up your rain-clogged streets 
For a London glamour
Brikama, your thoughts feed the displeasures 
of my worn-out New York Odyssey
You, the tonic of nostalgic memories
I salute my Brikama!


Mariama Khan


Born and raised in Brikama New Town

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