The very balanced way which pans and basins,
Sat on the perfectly placed 'aju',
On the head of Igbo girls my age, sometimes twice, hawking,
The unperturbed reassuring words of a mentor,
The solemn faces of mass servers,
Bowing and genuflecting in an impressive unison,
The lingering wetness of the earthen clay,
After the first rain meets with the cracked beneath,
The shock that slowly stretched into a say-it-all smile,
On getting to know about my achieved feats,
The long, loud roar of variations of laughter,
That succeeded all of my goofy jokes,
The way my silence reprimanded people on behalf of my angered voice,
The pitiful jerking of the killed 'okuko' at Christmas,
How adults took notice of how sedulous I was,
The ease with which my discipline magnets trust,
Pity uncalled for, especially when ill,
The thickness of my lashes, the vibe after work outs,
That rush of accomplishment,
When I comfort a sad friend, when I share the last bit of my 'udara',
Or when I make a small child smile so wide, their lips met their ears,
The unmistakable taste of 'okpa' and 'akamu',
The obvious ardour of archers,
The goosebumps I got from watching pianist's rapid fingers,
The smell of incense that lasted well beyond consecration at our Catholic Church,
The smallish nature of rabbits, and fury feel of puppies,
How sweet it was to pronounce Mozambique, Yugoslavia and Lewandoski,
The originality of Achebe's and Adichie's works,
The pattern and sweet fitting of clouds, plastered in the clear, blue sky,

Is what I really like about life.

The Igbo words are translated below;
Aju- a small cloth to balance a carried pot or tray
Okuko- chicken
Udara- African cherry
Okpa- Bambara
Akamu- pap, corn meal