— here she comes,
Africa’s first Super-Power …!
A new republic of power
A new republic of glory.
Why Angola and not South Africa? No!
Why not Nigeria? No!
and why not Egypt? No, not at all!
…all three have their chances lost
— sporting kindred kidneys, all three over time, had
in crooked inequalities,
fishing for remote fishes
in remote seas yet never finding any.
Don’t envy her, benighted Angola,
if a thousand Edens fall, won’t
a thousand Edens rise?
a thousand deers of time slain in their place, and
a thousand deers bred…
forests of autumns always will yield way
to forests of springs and
in ashlands of history,
blossoms will sprout, and
muscled leaves flower.
Crystal glows, all works of the sun,
have today, for proud Angola minted
new helmsmen of vision, whose Faith is,
To the pure all things are made pure.
Today Angola is anchored
to flying sky,
her princely feet
firmly planted on
mosaic floors of pride.
Hail her Angola, beautiful bride of a new season
wearing day like
fluttering in the sun
making fun and
like a river in her most ostentatious skirts,
freed forever from
of despots now safely chained.
Angola (new mintage in new season) is
newest jewel of pristine light;
blessed so prodigally, she’d
steered her boat — unlike her other peers —
into shorelands of glitter,
also had hurdled voids where
in dance of dusts, torrents
of mates had
drowned fruitful years,
hordes of parched throats to
question in their despair, Is men’s lust for loot
Wise counsel bids you Angola to build evermore
of life more abundant
bald wafers for pining
Ah, all behold Angola … in the cozy
folds of earthly paradise singing all
over her, a sky-dome of
winning wings proudly antheming,
first ever black super-power!
And Amen!… angels from Heaven’s gate in unison chorus
let beachcombers comb on your
flaunt their proud beauties
in the rays of chromed July
let suns denude frolicking women of
their naughty bras
to surf lustily
in your lush waters, with
their feathers of foams, white as wool.
Let spindly-legged gulls, sea empresses sentried
waltz the vast ballrooms of your Indian ocean
in one joyful hysteria.
Angola, luxuriate on …
maximally harness brains of your
in these new dawns bristling
new trees of calm, bristling
new leaves of balm, you
(once pulled down by poverty) who’s now to all the world
a sweet sweet pancake.
Remember though, remember
four things never look back –
spoken word, and
CRYSTALBALL—2021 is one of the 26 poems in the collection CRYSTALBALL, published in 2000. Here Eddie Aderinokun plays the role of “a literary seer”, according to the critic Maxwell Oditta. The poet died in January 2021, at the age of 81.