Sunset is a Strange Name for a Dying Day by Nas Jolaade

Image via Jason Mavrommatis

A Haibun

Sunset. A quiet, perfumed name for the end of something that should scream. When the last one came, it did not simply close the sky, it took something with it. We stood there, watching, and someone whispered, “Why now?” Why wait until the fire is reduced to ash before lifting the weight? Why not strike when the sun was full of heat, rage, and witness? The sun said nothing. The day did not answer. We only knew that something—or someone—had died with it, and the day, in its usual manner. And the day like every seasoned traitor, wore indifference like a well-fitted robe. It could have cried. It could have released rain. It could have bled its clouds red, or, at the very least, dragged another soul along for balance. But to wish for death—even when it feels fair—is to play god with soiled hands. They say it is uncultured, barbaric, to pray for a man’s fall. That’s what the scriptures and the textbooks of the well-fed teach. But God, if what we feel is called evil, record it. Engrave it deep in the book that weighs sin and sorrow. Record the mother who cried for help and received nothing but speeches—long, meandering speeches. Record my brother who mocked a neighbour’s stench, and the next week saw his teeth spilled like beans across the tar. Record my father’s death under the rain, in silence. And the way they said no one fired a gun. Remind me, how do we call a bullet hole a coincidence? So, if something must die with tomorrow, let it not be me. Let it not be my brothers, not my sister whose laughter still carries light. Let it be what we carry in our chests: the unnamed thing which eats our dreams raw. You know, God. We know. And we know you know.
​
the sky did not cry
but something beneath it broke--
no thunder, just teeth.

---

Nas Jolaade writes from a window at University of Ibadan. His work has appeared/is forthcoming in Bracken Magazine, New Nottingham Magazine, Gork Gazette, Brittle Paper, Poetry Sango-Ota, PoemsForPOI and others. He was a finalist for the 2024 Kofi Awoonor Poetry Prize. He tweets @thejolaade