by ian rowe
I emerge from the soil, this tired mass
My eyes wince as the sunlight beams down with fiery passion
The sun’s welcome meets me with a sharp “Hello again”
My exposed melanin soaks up its rays like parched soil with water
My dignity remains clothed, just as I struggle to find composure to stand
I gain my bearings by the count of three, only to find that I’m not alone
Before me, there are fifty Black men and women standing upright, staring
While I am certain I have never gazed upon their face prior
I recognize them immediately by their names
Adebayo, Chibuike, Kosnatu, Koja, Fatimatou, Halima, and many others
They look different from what I had envisioned.
They’re wives, husbands, shepherds, townsmen, and townswomen
I know they live mundane and simple lives by my standards
Yet they humble me immediately by the light in their faces
They are remarkable, accomplished, and alive, living and breathing before me
They are my ancestors, those I’ve forgotten yet live inside me all the same
I see my nose in Kehinde, my smile in Iyabo, my intellect in Halimatu
My features radiate amongst my ancestors like a dispersed jigsaw puzzle
They all scream in collective joy and love as they see me for the first time
“Ian, our boy, our son!” one voice commands above the others
“You’ve grown up, how are you?” another voice splinters across sound
Then I find Ibrahim amongst the crowd, and I do not see myself in Ibrahim
He walks towards me, the voices in the crowd ceasing at his movement
I tense up as Ibrahim approaches me. I know him by name alone
As he looks upon my face, it’s clear he does not see himself in me either
He sighs for a second, looking for some form of a connection
As I lock eyes with his gaze, he suddenly smiles and laughs loudly
“I know you, you’re the one who will embrace me,” he says, waiting for my response
I see his past, his mistakes, his errors, his crimes
I see his heart heartened and his mind stubborn, set adrift at sea
I smile, seeing my cousin, and hug him with a warm embrace
My ancestors all roar into collective joy and admiration
Just as I have claimed all of them, they claim me just the same
“Oh, How We’ve Missed You!” they all say in unison
I am with the ancestors, let me frolic in their love
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