December 13, 2024

Ripples Of Our Deeds, By Sunday Afolayan

They were just shivering
Lonely and hopeless
Crying for help
Longing for succour
Chirping, zithering
Thirsty and hungry
Writhing in pains
Waiting in sorrow
For mother to come
But the motherbird
Was nowhere in sight
Because she’s been killed
By a ruthless hunter
In the ruddest of game.

The ten little chicks
Were battling with cold
Right there in their nest
A snake climbed up the tree
Feasted on five
Out of the ten
For lack of protection.
In the dead of the night
A storm then gathered
With whirlwind and lightening
The downpour that followed
Unleashed its terror
And the five remaining chicks
Were killed in the tempest.

The lesson is this:
It is cruel and evil
To harm or kill
For every evil deed
A man metes onto others
Will bring ripples aftermath
Not only on the victim
But also those that depend
On the victim of the evil.

The ruthless hunter
That killed the motherbird
Is simply the architect
Of the gruesome death
Of her ten little offsprings.
The dreams of that fellow
You just nipped in the bud
Can lift scores of others
Out of conundrum tomorrow
The ideas of subordinates
You simply killed for joke
Are enough to lift thousands
Out of the wilderness
If allowed to sprout
And grow to maturity.

A fire made at one point
Can travel far and wide
The ripples of our deeds
Can spread and sprawl
Over diverse directions.


Sunday Afolayan is the Chairman, Association of Nigerian Authors (ANA), Ondo State. His works are protected by Copyright laws.

Afolayan