A peek into Salamatu Sule’s ‘Orchestra of Her Last Rites’

Title: Orchestra of Her Last Rites Author: Salamatu Sule Publisher: AMAB Books Pages: 40 Reviewer: Nathaniel Bivan   I have read Salamatu Sule’s children’s story book, ‘Oma The Drummer Queen’, so I was curious when I picked up her latest work, a poetry collection titled ‘Orchestra of Her Last Rites’. Understandably, I was eager to […]

Title: Orchestra of Her Last Rites

Author: Salamatu Sule

Publisher: AMAB Books

Pages: 40

Reviewer: Nathaniel Bivan

 

I have read Salamatu Sule’s children’s story book, ‘Oma The Drummer Queen’, so I was curious when I picked up her latest work, a poetry collection titled ‘Orchestra of Her Last Rites’. Understandably, I was eager to see what it’s like to switch from publishing a children’s story to poetry, and I wasn’t disappointed.

First off, I appreciate poetry that sings in my ears and beats in my heart, that whispers a story in my ears and touches my heart. This is what I found when I read this book, and to prove it, here are a few lines from a piece, titled ‘Grandfather’s Snuff’:

Black is the stuff

The concoction grandfather would sniff and puff,

A grown-up habit, a long-held love,

A need that was never enough.

 

Take a moment, as you read this, and remember your childhood, when what was marked off limits was what you sought. And if your daddy handled a pipe or snuff, you bet you may have wanted to have a puff, a sniff (or actually did). This is what Salamatu digs up, our tendency to follow in our parents’ footsteps, wherever it led us. But then, as time flies, likely to find our own path and take responsibility for our actions.

This book is divided into six parts and has a total of thirty poems. In ‘Innocence Undefiled’, the case in some parts of Nigeria’s north, where elderly men marry children quickly comes to mind. No child should be given into marriage, this piece screams. What about her future? What happens to her hopes and dreams?

Unfortunately, the Nigerian Constitution does not establish a minimum age of marriage. The Child Rights Act, which was passed in 2003, sets the age of marriage at 18-years-old. Today, only some of the states of the 36 Nigerian states have taken steps to implement the minimum age of marriage.

She is a child, our source of pride,

She is young, as yet unripe,

Ready not to become your bride,

Nor the flame that lights your pipe.

 

Another interesting thing about Salamatu’s work is that children can easily relate with the stories she tells. Almost every kid wants to grow up, so this author paints pictures of childhood and womanhood in her lines. Sometimes we miss our childhood, when we had no care in the world and didn’t have to worry about what we would eat or how we would sleep. ‘Evolution of a Phenomenal Woman’ is a typical example. It breaks down the stages in a female’s life, from birth, to a wife and mother. Her roles continue.

This collection might have not been complete without ‘My Heart Bleeds for Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow’, a sad poem anyone who has lost loved ones in a crisis can relate to.

The blood of the forty, the souls of the twenty,

The scream of silence, the vaunts of violence,

The state of our nation, the waste amid plenty,

I need not mention, for it has your attention.

The too many spoils

Planted on our soils.

 

The titular poem happens to be toward the end of the book. It’s true that we interpret poems in different ways. For me, it is an orchestra for Hauwa Liman, a young International Committee of the Red Cross worker, who was executed by Boko Haram terrorists. She was killed after a deadline given by the terror group for government to meet its demands elapsed.

The terror group had executed Ms Liman’s colleague, Saifura Khursa, in September, before threatening to kill Ms Liman and a third staff of the outfit, Alice Ngaddah, in October last year.

The three ICRC officials were kidnapped in March in an IDP camp in Rann, a community in Borno State. The terror group promised to ‘enslave’ Ms Ngaddah and a Dapchi student kidnapped by the group in February, Leah Sharibu. The killings have been condemned by local and international groups, across the world.

Here is a stanza from ‘Orchestra of Her Last Rites’:

Was it right?

For one life to be thus stricken

By the scourge of night?

She stood as a beacon,

A heroine that strives

Against the evil that thrives

To Safeguard our lives.

Now her soul lies

Beneath the confluence eyes.

 

These poems have come to stay, and perhaps, will bring change.