Port Harcourt, Nigeria

T he rumble of the thunder,
The shining sun while the rain pours,
the sounds of children,
singing hymns in the morning assembly.
We march to our classroom in our
newly starched uniforms, singing at the top of our lungs.

As we sit in class, the leaking roof
reminds us of the pouring rain outside,
and tempts our hearts to run into the green fields,
and play all day under the gentle rain.
Hurrying to copy notes from the board,
we fear our teacher's cane,
knowing it will be used with no reluctance.

The sound of the bell,
instills in our hearts an overwhelming joy.
We run out with bagged lunches onto the wet grass
and the tropic rain gives way to the blazing sun.
The heat doesn't bother us
as we play and chant and sing Oga.

Back to our wooden benches again
just as the clouds darken the sky;
The day rushes on.
After the final bell,
no one hides their joy,
running home, chasing in the rain.

-Shveta -