OJboss

I ntroduction: The Ijaw people are among the oldest communities of the Niger Delta, shaped by water, tides, trade, and resistance. This poem tells their story through myth, memory, and lived struggle In the beginning, before the silt settled, Before the Niger split its fingers to touch the Atlantic, There was the Word, and the Word was Woyengi . She, the Great Mother, sat upon the golden stool, Molding the spirit of the Oru from the river-bed clay. We are not guests of this delta; we are its breath. From the sacred city of Benin to the fringes of the sea, The Ijaw spirit floated on the first tide. Speak of the Kumoni , the ancient ones, Who walked the swamps when the earth was soft, Before the first paddle broke the surface of the Nun. Pause for 30 seconds: Imagine the sound of water hitting a wooden hull. Let us praise the Angala , the red mangrove, The stilts of our kingdom, the bone of our land. In the labyrinth of the creeks, where the salt meets the sweet, The Ijaw man built his h...