Idara : The Last of The Gung-Ho Kids

A tale like no other, before you I lay

Simplicity its form, amidst its language rests the cunning.

Its nature like an egg, artistic, strong yet delicate exterior,

A protective hedge it creates for the rich versatile fluidity of the interior,

Heed caution, for like the scent of the egg interior ensures resurrection to the last meal for some, for others it is a welcome nourishment giving revival to things previously considered dead.

Idara is the name, bursting forth with meaning

Originating from Nigeria, it is claimed by two tribes

In the South-East, the Ibibio know the name to mean JOY

And on the country’s Western front, the Yoruba understand it as GOODNESS.

So, Goodness and Joy abundant are Idara’s goals

Mind, body and soul,

Silence and labour, her companions through the days,

Pruning and self-grooming, till her goals she achieves.

Discipline and hard work, her daily creed,

Learning ever, settling never.

A constant desire for knowledge,

Keeping close by to the reminder of "all Good" and "all Joy"

A perfect picture?  Not this one

More like a picture of perfection, without blemish, varnished

The perfection derived 

Never tarnished.

Love was a constant in her life.

With an assortment of family and friends,

ready to revert all scientific theories to see her in comfort,

the need for external affection was not one she experienced.

Rejecting with a warm smile all advances from daring men,

And on occasion a little more force, for she is beautiful

A modern day Cleopatra, she has a plan

A standard for her Mr. Right, only the brave dare try

Fewer still make the cut, none steal her heart

Not yet.

Alas, a price was paid for the continuous consumption of knowledge

For being ever present at her father’s feet,

As a sponge in water, soaking up all of his wisdom.

She grew up too fast.

Despising childish folly and forsaking the company of her peers,

Her infancy was spent laying the foundations for a solid future

Acting the mature and responsible role, and to her detriment

Ridding herself of the innocence attached to childhood.

This very critical part of growth she abandoned,

The purest and most truthful part of our lives as humans.

The chance to gain immunity, to build a thick-skin,

To stock up on resistance, germs and taunts alike.

Resistance- both physical and mental.

A void exists, at first in the shadows

As the light of day breaks, more visible it becomes

Occasionally, those without this void long for it,

That they may relive the Joys and Goodness of filling it,

To experience once again lives purest form

Innocence and Simplicity in a child’s heart

The freedom of responsibility and the seriousness of play,

Trying out things that have been forbid you,

Getting excited at growing an inch taller,

Crushing on the boy next door,

Purest bliss, alas some have had no idea,

With nothing previously experienced, she has nothing to reminisce on

Psychologically drained from tackling lives problems in childhood

Way before her mind was ever prepared for it.

An aging mind will always show outwardly, withdrawn in thought and worries.

Still she hangs on to her last comfort,

Hope.

The hope that it’s not too late rectify mistakes of the past,

Hope that while childish innocence might be long gone, the void might yet be filled with faith

She hangs on to hope

She hangs on to love...

Written by The Preacher's Son, a poet and friend.