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Sunday, January 21, 2018

Passing by the Kotokoshi Mountain

My sojourn to some West African counties by road is closing. The voice of its farewell overwhelms me as I approach home through the familiar landscapes Hausaland. By the Kotorkoshi Mountain, the first igneous rock range I will come across since I entered Burkina Faso, I instantly recalled
Golobo's poem that described his visit to Ibadan:
"Mai da ni gida
Jalla Rabbana
Inda na ke
Nuna na isa
Har da kira-
Ri gareni can
Dutsen Kwatarkwashi
Mai wuyar iza
Ni cinnaka
Mai shiga jiki."
By any measure, Golobo's trip to Western Nigeria was a disaster. In the poem, he listed the difficulties he faced of unemployment, sleeping in motor parks, markets and under the flyover.
One day, defeated by hardship, nostalgia crept into his broken heart. Like the improvisation of Abu Zaid in the Assemblies, he composed this poem, lamenting his troubles and praying for a return home. In it he paid tribute to the unassailable Kotorkoshi mountain with which he likened his tough character back home.
"Na kwana tasha
Na kwana kassuwa
Na kwana gadaaaa
Wadda ba ruwaaaa
Ni ba aiki wanda za nayi
"Mai da ni gida
Jalla Rabbana
Inda na ke
Nuna na isa
Har da kira-
ri gareni can
Dutsen Kwatarkwashi
Mai wuyar iza
Ni cinnaka
Mai shiga jiki.
Ruwa da kada
Ku kyale mai shiga
Ya shigo gulbi
Ban tare shi ba"
With him I repeat
Mai da ni gida
Jalla Rabbana...
But my kirari is different. It used to please my late mother (may God have mercy on her) to spoil me whenever I did something that pleased her, saying:
Ali gadanga kusar yaki
Mo'di boodi maagani rewdu!
Leave her and her metaphor! I never swallowed a snake when I had stomach ache. Don't attempt it when you have any.

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