The Day I Was Born
Poem By Binta Bundu
Just at the middle of the month,
The first month of the year,
A day noted to be an unusual day,
A day that started with heavy rain, thunder and lightning so terrifying that people thought
the world was coming to an end. Mother cried "Whoo, whoo, whoo."
That very "Whoo, whoo," she started having contractions, and by the middle of the day,
12 noon the heavy rain stopped suddenly, and then came the sun, bright and shining.
It shone so brightly that you would have forgotten that it had rained.
At the middle of such an episode I was born!
The first daughter of my mother,
The first child of my father,
Oops, the first little "rascal" of my grandfather.
And then my eighty-eight year old grandpa made a prediction, he said "such a child born
under rain or shine would survive anywhere in this world."
And now, here I am in the United States of America from Sierra Leone, West Africa.