In the contemporary literary space, we often see poets reach for scientific metaphors as mere ornamentation. However, in Gamete, Majekodunmi O. Ebhohon does something far more rigorous. He operates not as a casual observer, but as a “Wondrous Pathologist,” performing a literary biopsy on the very origin of life to reveal the uncomfortable machinations of the human state.
I. The Clinical Precision: Identifying the Microscopic Agent
Ebhohon’s genius lies in his restraint. He never utters the word “sperm,” yet for the scientifically literate, the poem is an exacting anatomical record. He captures the motility and morphology of the spermatozoa through a series of brilliant, technical ciphers.
He identifies the flagellar movement—which, unlike the lateral sweep of a fish, is a helical rotation—with the line:
“spiral through dark rivers.”
This is a sophisticated nod to the three-dimensional corkscrew mechanics required to navigate the viscous environment of the reproductive tract.
The chemical composition is equally accounted for. When Ebhohon writes that they are,
“each carrying a flag of salt,”
he is referencing the saline, alkaline nature of the seminal fluid that sustains these cells in a hostile, acidic environment. The “flag” is, of course, the flagellum itself—the engine of their singular “prayer.”
Finally, he captures the tragic attrition of the journey:
“Most die in the moist
between one push and the next.”
This reflects the biological reality that out of a population of millions, only a negligible percentage reaches the zona pellucida—the “gate”—at the fallopian terminus.
II. The Subversion of the “Fastest”: From Biology to Hegemony
The true “prolific” turn in Ebhohon’s work occurs when he pivots from cellular biology to political philosophy. He uses the frenzy of fertilization to dismantle the “Great Man” theory of history.
He writes:
“In their frenzy,
there is the whole nation:
the rush for power,
the waste of bodies…”
Here, the sperm are no longer just gametes; they are a displaced citizenry. Ebhohon is suggesting that our nations are built on a “waste of bodies”—a biological and social Darwinism where the many must perish so that the one may rule.
The poem reaches its intellectual zenith in the final lines, where he deconstructs the myth of meritocracy:
“…the myth that victory
belongs to the fastest
and not the one
allowed in.”
This is a devastating social commentary. In the world of the Pathologist, success is not a result of “outswimming every brother”; it is a result of biochemical permission. The “gate” (the egg) chooses. The system decides who is “allowed in.” By applying this to “nation building,” Ebhohon suggests that our social structures, our “kingdoms we have never seen,” are not governed by the strength of the individual, but by the selective, often arbitrary “gatekeeping” of the state.
III. Verdict: The Pathologist as Prophet
Ebhohon has achieved a rare “metabolic breakthrough” in poetry. He has taken the most primitive biological race and mapped it onto the sophisticated corridors of power. The young Nigerian poet consistently uses Biological Determinism as a lens for Sociopolitical Critique.
In Gamete, his language is deceptive. It feels “simple”, but it is thoroughly surgical. There is no room for the “poetic” when you are dealing with the raw attrition of survival and the selective gatekeeping of the womb. Gamete reminds us that we are, at our core, the product of a brutal, unthinking competition where the outcome is decided by a system we are not outswimming.
For the critical reader, this poem is not merely about the start of life, but a clinical diagnosis of how we compete, how we fail, and the terrifying reality that our “sovereignty” is often just a byproduct of a system that happened to open its doors. Ebhohon is a voice to be reckoned with—a poet who looks under the microscope and sees a revolution.
