Poem: The Blueprint

By Majekodunmi Oseriemen Ebhohon

THE creator sits at a desk
with a compass and a ruler.
He designs the layout of the femur.
He counts the teeth in the jaw of a child.
He makes sure the marrow fits perfectly
inside the bone.

Then he invents the cell.

He shapes it like a tiny bead.
He places it inside the same bone,
right beside the blood.
He watches the cell multiply
on his screen.
He notes the date in his diary.

A general who fires a missile
into a hospital
must hide from the police.
His name is written on a warrant.
He can be dragged to a cell in the Hague.

But the designer of the bone tumor
receives a song on Sunday.
People stand in rows
and turn their faces towards the ceiling.
They thank him for the gift of life.

The life in the cot turns over.
The thermometer under her tongue
fills with the rising line.
A woman uses a damp rag
to wipe the sweat from the forehead.
She sings a song quieten the breathing.

The creator checks his watch.
He closes the folder,
and signs the next shipment
for the refugee tents.

‘The Blueprint’ was inspired by the Nigeria Civil War picture and caption shared by literary critic, Pa Ikhide R. Ikheloa. A new documentary film ‘Surviving Biafra: Voices from the Nigerian Civil War’ by BBC Africa Eye has just come out