Post-Patriarchal: Eulogy for Michuki

Daddy, I have had to kill you—Sylvia Plath

Let us now praise the dead old men. Let us now praise our desiccating fathers. Let us now praise our well-preserved corpses. Let us now praise our obsolescent regimes. Let us now praise our dead old men.

Dance for the dead old men. Dance on and around their graves. Pour libations to the dead old men. Dance for the dead old men. Do not fear their flaccid passions. Dance. Dance. Dance.

Let us now bury the dead old men. Let us dig beyond graves. Dig beyond the earth. Seek graves beyond resurrection. Where clarion calls cannot penetrate. Where worms cannot eat. Where flesh cannot fertilize. Let us now bury the dead old men.

Let us now cherish our dead old men. Hymn their praises. Aria their achievements. Cantata their brutalities. Oratorio their biographies. Benga their benevolence.

And when we are done singing—let us gargle with salty tears.

Let us embalm our dead old men. Seal them beyond memory. Pyramid them beyond excavation. Marble them beyond recognition.

And pray their poison does not leak.

2 thoughts on “Post-Patriarchal: Eulogy for Michuki

  1. And pray their poison does not leak” Today at an event in Takoradi, Western region of Ghana, a chief lamented how the older generation has failed today’s African. Good work.

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