Leaving Agadez

By 'Gbenga Adeoba

They all cling to remains

of safety in this truck careening

towards Sabha in Libya.

They crowd the back,

shrouded in a half light

haloing their bodies—

the broken windows

opening into Asmara,

Raqqa, Darfur, and other

cathedrals of war.

When they collate their aches,

it is in whispers—

a longing to break this ruse,

the pact between the smugglers

and songbirds governing

this region,

the insistence of gusts sweeping

the desert.

Too frail to bear the angst,

the kids on board are crying.

They are asking their parents

if they will make it,

if they all won't be sold

before they get to Sabha,

or Tripoli, where they can

make for the waters.

But the adults are hesitant.

They know they could be sold,

they could get caught

by the guards who would shout

emshi emshi,

deporting them back to Agadez,

to those camps where comrades

who have failed in this quest reside,

often staying awake

in full moons,

mourning dreams forgone.

Copyright Credit: ‘Gbenga Adeoba, "Leaving Agadez" from Exodus. Copyright © 2020 by ‘Gbenga Adeoba. Reprinted by permission of University of Nebraska Press.

Source: Exodus (University of Nebraska Press, 2020)