To the man who impregnated Emeka my sister
In all our 7 huts we own no knives
And we still borrow machetes when in need of chopping wild meet into pieces
We only own one club that stands at a conner of Baba's hut.
To the man who impregnated Emeka my sister,
My father is a palm wine tapper
He knows no war
But that does not mean he knows not how to shoot an arrow off a bow
To the man who impregnated Emeka my sister.
My Mama is still a good cook,
She still cooks soup in a pot till it boils rumble-a-bubble!
It is in the kitchen that she has mastered how holding a hot pot of her sweet porridge with her bare hands .
To the man who impregnated Emeka my sister
My little brother owns no catapult to hunt birds with
His hands only know how to grip a herding stick.
To the man who impregnated Emeka my sister
I still hunt wild pigs!.
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