What could be more impressive than the manner in which Janetta Marilyn Konah manages to condense decades of warm memories into “Memorabilia”? We are delighted to share this lovely poem with you!

– Editorial Team


In the left corner
of our big family piazza,
The rocking chair sits alone
devoid of the body
that once pressed against it.

I wonder if it misses the warmth of Mama,
how she sat there from dawn to dusk
softly rocking back to forth
with my baby sister Tomah in her arms.

It has been five years
and no one has sat there
to rock its limbs
and sing soft songs in Kru
to a baby snuggled in their chest.

This old raggedy chair
that have helped Mama rocked
each one of us when we were babies
must know Tomah is grown.

It must be cold,
must scream in silent agony,
must understand the pain
of letting go when you still yearn to hold on.

I wonder if like every mother,
this chair doesn’t want to let us grow up
doesn’t wish to let us retire
from its semi-form of motherhood.

It sits so still but sturdy
like it is holding onto a distant hope,
a wish for a newborn baby
carved in its corners,
but Tomah was the last of us.

Therefore, this old chair now sits alone
quietly contemplating how it has lost its usefulness.
If tomorrow, we might throw it out
or keep it
with all of the memories
stored in its limbs.

Contributor’s Bio

Janetta Marilyn Konah is a Liberian writer. She writes both poetry and prose. Her works have been featured in KWEE magazine, Spillwords, and other literary platforms. Her first chapbook of poetry, ‘Beautiful Pieces: a new dawn rises’ was published on Amazon. Janetta presently resides in Monrovia where she writes daily.