i will miss taking my son to his first day of pre-school

coz i teach other people’s children

some say i tell my son i love you too much

but i tell him so that he remembers

because the world constantly tells him that he ain’t s***

they step on his dreams

step on his neck

refusing to believe the bigness of who he can be

i kiss him everyday with the sweetness of mangoes found on trees

in my grandmother’s village

i want him to know the soil from whence he came ,

that he comes from a long line of warriors and Kings

Shaka -Adekunle- Zulu-Yoruba-Cajun blood running through his veins

i speak to him with tenderness because too many times on buses and trains

i hear young boys and kids shredded to pieces by women who say they love them……..