I – all my father bequeathed me
were good name n’ honesty – a treasure,
so rich to pay for Tomorrow’s fare –
value beyond measure.
A bureaucrat, resorting to vile schemes
to covet commonwealth to bestow to his children
my father did not, nor did his fathers before him
they were no rascals made rich by graft.
He pleaded with me in God’s name to act the same
while I live, this virtue to my progenies bestow
but, behind closed doors, I’ve tasted
the best burger in town – cash for silence.
Bribery – sweet like honey mostly
when you’ve known poverty all your life,
a little may refresh but
too much gluts the stomach.
My lips are unclean
I now live for two reasons:
I was born,
I haven’t died yet.
Copyright © Ugo Nkwoala |Spilledwoords.org | 2020
Photo Source: https://www.legit.ng
Lad! Remember that no man ought to forgeta child’s tender youth is like tempering of waxapt to receive form – discipline before affectionmix threats with a fair look, manner with wit. A potter fashions his lay when it’s softa sparrow taught to come when younghot iron by a hammer’s stroke begets formand keeps it forever […]
4 It was the stuff of a satire, were it not painfully true. Nnenne sat silently on a black-spotted Ankara patterned sofa surrounded by chattering friends and coworkers. She and a handful of friends at Lolo’s urging – her childhood friend and workmate, had gathered at her residence to celebrate a hard-fought promotion greeted with […]
© Ugo Nkwoala |Spilledwoords.org | 2020