Reflection and Short Poem on Global Warming

Global Warming Is Real

If you are in West Africa, you will notice that the harmattan winds didn’t blow this past year. Growing up, it was the norm to witness dry and intense storms that blow morning, noon and evening. Then exposed body parts will turn white unless you used a particular type of oil pomade. Lips will crack up under the heavy gusts that blow, and if you try to lick them up, you cause more harm. Hands shiver and the flu is common. If one happened to get bruised, it would take the whole harmattan season to heal. There was no rainfall, but the eyes are always wet. Grasses and trees turn brown. The earth becomes red mud. This was the harmattan season I grew up knowing. This was the harmattan season I looked up to see, but last year none of those events happened.

On my way back to my hometown during the yuletide, I couldn’t help but notice that many things remained the same. Early January there was a huge shower, and I wonder what is going on. Global warming is real, and we are living in it. The human race needs to figure a way to do things right. I hope that the harmattan wind blows again.


Twist and turns
Solitary anthill
Drying wetland

Over the hills sunset
Clouds foam, fold away
Summer and winter
Times reverse and reset