Monday, 23 June 2014

The Maiden

By Okoye Precious Onyeka

Our birth holes are sore and red
Alas we have been raped again!

Long ago lived a fair young maiden
Virgin at heart, in mind and body
Pure and fresh like a newly birth unicorn
Her name is Africa, a tall sweet thing

Her milk sacs were pillars of rest
The milk within surging in great fury
Her lithe body shone in the Eastern sun
Her gait, her poise, no one could feign

Praised by many, envy of all
Suitors from far lands sought her hand
The Arabs first with their whitish turks
But she was coy and bid her time

Then came the Oyinbo with the reddish skin
That looked to us like a freshly cut meat
He spoke through the nose and sniffed through the mouth
A strange fellow he was, though rich like a king

The young maiden ensnared by princely charms
And costly gems from far far Europe
Eloped with him before the dawn
Little rascal said no wedding vows

And now, brother, what is this we hear?
The pretty maiden is a haggard witch
Dressed in rags, begging for alms
On the far far streets of Europe

Our birth holes are sore,
Alas! We have been raped again!

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