ITABOSUWA
She was my warrior queen,
Princess of my past world.
Naive was her royal reign.
Armed with an eye on the world.
Walking through tepid grassland
Of spears, toil, buried breath and aged gossip -
Dismantling a garrison of
Tuareg foot marching fighters.
Her temper was ancient goose,
In a flash of lightning.
Tending love with great value,
Anguish called her, home.
Within a heart that vibrated in its casement.
I recognise her from the past,
From the foot of creation.
527 years gone and counting,
In a countryside Egypt.
But I died in her hands, Itabosuwa.
My blood dribbled and stirred,
From her immaculate white frock,
Leaving a cesspool of anguish,
In her widowing youthful heart.
My love for her was a road,
With an abrupt dead end.
This underage princess from antiquity,
Now relive her past glory, differently.
All forgotten in a macabre,
In a modern breathless tale of love.
She takes her place,
Beside my merchant self:
A modern Nigerian,
Not knowing the story of our ancient love.
Tuareg -- Evguenia Silvinia
The Tuareg inhabit the Saharan regions of North Africa (Niger, Mali, Libya, Algeria and Burkina Faso). The name was applied to them by explorers and historians, amd may be derived from an Arabic term meaning "abandoned by God." They call themselves the Kel Tamajaq (Speakers of Tamajaq), Kel Tagelmust ("veiled people," an allusion to the veiled garment traditionally worn by the men.), or the Imouhar (the free people). Reputedly of Berber descent, they may have ancient Libyan roots.
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