Kerosene Lamp.
Smoke And Survival.
I walk toward a lantern,
its glass belly round with breath,
its flame alive though the night is heavy.
I remember cousins packing for school,
their trunks shut with padlocks,
and among the folded uniforms,
this quiet companion of kerosene and wick.
When my turn came,
torches had stolen the stage,
and rechargeable lamps hummed with new promises.
Yet this old lantern still speaks to me
from market stalls where traders bend over yam and pepper,
from homes where generators sleep because fuel costs too much,
from corners where the glow is small but stubborn.
There is something in the way it burns,
not just light but time itself,
a trembling between past and present,
a black curl of smoke rising like memory,
marking the air with a scent that clings,
as though each spark carries a whisper
from those who studied late into the dawn,
heads bent low over exercise books,
their future kept alive by the soft heart of a flame.
I walk closer still,
and the world falls quiet around it,
a circle of glow pressed against the dark,
a reminder that light need not be loud
to teach us how to keep going.
Notes
The kerosene lamp was once a household staple in Nigeria. For many families, it lit the nights when there was no electricity, no generator, only this steady flame and the faint smoke curling into the air. Students carried them to boarding schools, traders set them on market tables, and children studied by their dim glow.
The smell of kerosene clung to everything, sharp but familiar. The smoke blackened the glass and stained the ceiling, yet it was part of survival, part of the rhythm of growing up in times when light was not guaranteed.
Though rechargeable lamps and torches have taken its place, the kerosene lamp remains more than an object. It is memory itself, fragile, smoky, and enduring. A symbol of resilience in homes that made do with little, and a reminder that even the smallest flame can carry generations forward.
About the Creator
Cathy (Christine Acheini) Ben-Ameh.
https://linktr.ee/cathybenameh
Passionate blogger sharing insights on lifestyle, music and personal growth.
⭐Shortlisted on The Creative Future Writers Awards 2025.
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More stories from Cathy (Christine Acheini) Ben-Ameh. and writers in Poets and other communities.
Comments (4)
Oh wow, those last two lines were incredibly powerful! I've never used a kerosene lamp before. It was used when my parents were kids
This is very beautiful, Cathy. It gives a feeling of comforting memories with a timeless assessment of time, bridging past and present. I appreciate the background notes that give context. Very nicely done.
There are so many things to love about this piece. I especially love the history lesson at the end. This was my favorite bit: "There is something in the way it burns, not just light but time itself, a trembling between past and present" I kind of want to print this and hang it in my home next to the kerosene lanterns on our wall. My husband is obsessed with making sure we have essentials for emergencies and so we have enough lanterns to light our home when needed.
Wow, love this. I almost feel like I can see what you described, like I’m sitting right there. I especially appreciate the lines an about smoke curling like a memory and sparks like a whisper. There’s a sense of quiet and sense of endurance here, both of which I find very compelling. Great poem :)