ABIRÙN -By Joshua Bamidele

Filed under: Forgotten Dairies |

 

The egg hosts the ejaculation
An attack was the fertilization
In love and care came the deception
But to annex a coast was the intention

Conception took to play
A pregnancy tending unwanted
The gestation lasting than tolerable
Yet premature came the offspring

Having spent longer gestation period
Why the need for an incubator
The womb not good to nurture
The sperm too weak to fertilize

From whence comes this abnormal babe
An ‘egbere’ born of a woman
A baby for the bush
A product of failed abortion

She has come to live
For this reason she fought for survival
She is bound to be great
For this she conquered the valley of death

Her name she makes a house
A river she is identified with
For to feed the house she sets cooks
The affairs of the kitchen is the concern

Chefs they pride of themselves
Their aprons their garment of pride
Cycling their interests for their stomachs
For their greed they make mess

The affairs of the house they jumble
For their inefficiencies they fumble
Fault of witches they mumble
No pepper for soup they grumble

Dinner is made in the kitchen
The aroma of inviting savor we perceive
To be filled in delicacy we salivate
The cooking takes longer than necessary

Now the food is served
The product of the work in kitchen
But watery beans with no oil
No correlation with the aroma

What have we been perceiving
What have we now on table
Food for king in the kitchen
Junk for dogs on the table

Expectation with no satisfaction
Who will eat this trash
But that we die not of starvation
Half bread is better than none

The advert in the kitchen
An invitation to treat
Now the junk on table
Yet the cooks receive some hailing

The food store is robbed
The daily deeds of the cooks
Insufficiency is the complaint
Yet the cooks grow fatter

Will we die of malnutrition
While the cooks keep complaining
While their cheeks grow chunky
The people’s meat in one stomach

That we rise in our mass
The kitchen we investigate
The cooks we stone
Tied to stake for confession

Who will bell the cat
Shifting responsibility to another
But for selflessness in commitment
We fight or die of hunger

An hungry man is an angry man
Our angry might to amass
An hungry mob for the cooks
The pestle be used to cane

Then shall we have the cake
Shared in equity and fairness
Selfless cooks for the kitchen
Every man eats the meat

 

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