Illusions: Ujana ni Moshi

A chest is drawn out,

Unveiling a stack of wooden splint ‘munitions’

One is singled out from the dozens,

And the chest drawn back to its cover

It snaps in as if to cock a rifle, click click

Now all systems are go,

The thick match head stares onto its igniter,

Fire is only a strike away


Action

The match head is hastily scrapped across the igniter,

“Chirrrk!”

A fireball erupts on the wooden splint;

Giggles erupt too


Chirrk! Fire erupts

Fire the wild ravenous flower,

Devours the wood with astounding ease

Its bright lethal petal amuses the eye,

As it waltzes across the splint undeterred,

Leaving behind a charred block of debris

Wonder


Seemingly indestructible,

The razing flower decimates the splint

And now in a feat of glutton,

It reaches for the finger to devour

Sorry, too far too quick pal

A gust of air is blown onto the glutton


Behold the razing flower is subdued,

Its once formidable petal flickers out,

In its place smoke wobbles lazily into the air

As if the fire reincarnated into a ghost

But in a flash the ghost disappears into thin air


All the while,

A toddler’s been watching,

A blockbuster unfold in real time

The sudden emergence and vanishing of fire,

And its reincarnation into smoke;

An illusion of cause and effect

Nothing short of amusing

The toddler’s knack for adventure demands a replay


Reminder: keep matchboxes away from their reach


Time passes

The toddler grows older and wiser,

Now wary of the scorch of a matchstick,

The illusion of fire flickers out,

Only for a greater one to set in

The illusion of time and youth


Youthfulness,

Much like fading smoke,

Wobbles in time

Now you have it,

Now you don’t

Ujana ni moshi


Ujana ni moshi is a Swahili proverb, which translates to ‘Youthfulness is (but a fading) smoke.

Spend your youth wisely while it lasts. The Englishman callously cautions: Youth is wasted on the young, and wisdom spent on the old.

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