POETRY
The Haunting Laments of Gumaloh Jallow
By Mathew K. Jallow, Associate Editor
The rising dust follows the meandering stampede of migrating cattle
Obscuring the melancholic view of the distant blue horizon
As his troubled look distort the chiseled face of Gulamoh
Where the descending hills meet the storied history a forgotten past
The fearless Masina shepherd with the shy warrior grin
Dusty, grimy mucus flowing down Gumaloh’s blistering lips
As pure white cattle egrets scratch the scourged earth for a feed
And the sun cast an ominous shadow behind the fearful devil’s tree
A weary shepherd with the resilience of ancestors long gone
Portend the resolve of a noble tribe that God touched
A mother gently cupped her chopped hands on a youthful head
And under her breathe, talk softly to the spirits of her forefathers
For it was Gumaloh’s last rite of the day
The cattle have come home at last
And the hero of a proud heritage can go to sleep
To rest his weary little body for just one more day
He stood stoically high atop the mysterious whispering hills
Where the smell of swamp mud percolates through the damp air
And a whiff of cool breeze radiate the faces of groomed villagers
As colorful flamingos congregate in prayer to an unknown deity
Synchronize gaits to the soulful lyrics of Noperi’s angelic ballads
Gumaloh’s innocent gaze transfixed on the curious white chapel
In his mind he could see the praying godly priest in the flowing robes
The dusty little village of Sare Gainako will never be the same again
For tomorrow a watershed moment to define a proud history
And a hard life drowned in laughter if only for one moment
Jangereh heh defte have come to Sare Gainako at last
The nomads of the African savannah look out west for hope
Their worried minds wrapped around a new alien culture
As mother’s cool tears drip gently on his new baldhead
Gumaloh knew soon he too would chase blue milk flies no more
Child of the Great African Plains chasing the ancestor’s wisdom
A history touched by the pulsating life of yesterday
The towering shadow of Ba Samba seared in Gumaloh’s memory
And destiny beckoning him to a land far beyond the blue seas
The serene waters of the mighty Atlantic hug the gates of paradise
And palm trees sway and dance to the melody of an invisible force
A history shrouded in mystery as long as memory
If only these timeless shores could talk back
To tell the stories of black nobilities so long forgotten
And Gumaloh in pursuit of hope for a people in distress
Still like a ghost, his heart resides in Sare Gainako’s empty spaces
And the sorrowful nostalgia for Bathurst of his childhood
Light this poor soul with the blessing of the warrior ancestors
And take this melancholy from his aching heart
Away from where the menacing spirits of the great Savannah prowl
For Gumaloh hopes for a day to kiss the ground of his homeland
And kneel and pray in the canyon of hope of his beloved Gambia.