I should trust you?
The brightness of the stars
Is not strong enough
To tell the size of the cat fish
Swimming beneath the river.
A promise from you will do?
The light from the sun
Can only show me your face
And not what your heart will do
When mine stops pumping red oil.
You say it is God that gives wealth.
But when the anthill stands proud
It is not because the dogged kick
From a child’s foot can’t bring it down
To the place of its birth.
The anthill knows what it shares
With the small woodpecker
Whose long rapid discussions
With the bark of the obeche
Can one day make a hole
A man’s head will find no trouble entering.
I should not write it down?
If my pregnant goat
Stubbornly journeys to the next village
Where her cry cannot prick my ears
Is it not the rope around her neck
That friends in that village will see
And then bring her back to me?
You have heard:
One cannot borrow a man’s mouth
And eat onions for him.
You should know:
I would rather be the one
To tell which be the better tool
Between the cutlass and the knife
In dividing all my onions.