Silver Spoon – By Peculiar Comfort Ene

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Silver Spoon

Lucky are those that were born with a silver spoon for some of us were born to look for it ourselves.

We grew up not knowing the taste of skimmed milk not because mother was a great custodian of our African tradition who preferred breast milk but because our forefathers had failed in finding that silver spoon which their feathers before them couldn’t find.

My own father had tried but could only stop at providing our daily bread like my heavenly father had thought me to pray.

Living life this way is no longer a challenge to me, it has always been this way, so getting used to it didn’t cost me much.

Is it the hunger that tears through my intestines passing through the spine of my back and resting on my chest that is new?

Or it is the ever angry sun that wouldn’t pity my bare feet’s that a slipper is too expensive to protect.
Is it the holes on my shirt that would tear more when ever i wash?
I had learnt to keep dirty clothes than having more holes on them.

My background is a GROUND where i was created from and had never risen from.

Seeing my age mates in fitted School uniforms is something i envied.
Lately, i took to waking up early so i wouldn’t miss the sight of those school kids with those fine boxes which i never knew its contents even when i tried to imaging.
I heard those boxes are called “Lunch Box”.

Happy are those that were born with a silver spoon.
Where did mother earth hide mine?


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