THE HOUSE I WASN'T RAISED IN

I know my parents by blood,

but blood never taught me how a father enters a room,

how a mother calls your name from the kitchen

or how a child falls asleep between two people

who have nowhere else they would rather be.

I grew up learning family

from the outside of other people's windows,

watching fathers carry sleeping children from cars

while mothers fixed their collars at the gate,

wondering what kind of warmth requires no invitation.

At Eid, I learned the choreography of belonging,

the greetings, the embraces, the plates passed around,

but somewhere beneath the fragrance of food

was a question I kept folding like a prayer mat:

what does it feel like to be somebody's little boy?

Now I am older than the boy who asked that question,

but sometimes adulthood opens the same old door,

and I stand there with my hands in my pockets,

still waiting for a childhood

that never learned my address.

ZERO IS STILL A BEGINNING

I became older before my birthday allowed it,

learned the mathematics of empty pockets,

how to divide one meal between two people

and still tell my sibling, “Take more,”

as though hunger were something love could negotiate.

There was no manual for becoming the responsible one,

no trumpet announcing, you are the man now,

just bills, small shoes, unfinished dreams

and a younger voice asking questions

I was too young to answer.

But zero frightened me less with time.

I discovered that nothing is not the same as nowhere,

that a bare road is still a road,

and a boy with empty hands

can still build a life with them.

I came from beginnings that looked like endings,

from rooms where possibility had no furniture,

and every step I took became proof

that starting from zero

does not mean you were born to remain there.

About The Author

Nasirudeen Muritala is a poet and writer whose work explores childhood, identity, family, belonging, and personal growth. His writing is shaped by memories, experiences, and the questions that often stay with us long after childhood. Through poetry, he gives voice to emotions and experiences that are sometimes difficult to put into words. His work is an honest reflection on becoming, finding belonging, and learning to build a life from where you started.