By
Onawale Femi Simeon
Under the Acacia tree are big bellies of different sizes
That which is well rounded and formed like a cat’s cheek and can adequately contain a new born baby.
And that which looks like that of a pregnant well-fed cow and can contain a small hut.
There noisy laughter evermore fills the air making their bellies vibrate with much energy and negligence
While the house-flies buzz around the spilled liquor- like a group of choirs singing Beethoven’s ‘hallelujah.”
It never takes long to realise: though their purses are heavy and the abundance thereof can knock consciousness out of a man, they are much poor of wisdom and folly follows their footsteps.
Their drunkeness always comes with much laughter making the thick veins of their well-shaven head and fat-compressed neck dangling and too obvious.
Playing ayo game with much noise and enthusiasm
And then at almost evening
Wives of some other and ladies that would-still and could-have become young men’s wives flock around the beast-looking old men.
Their calloused hand will start to toy with the young ladies’
breast, sitting on their laps.
And their several inch thick lips sucking the ladies’ lips.
Splattering and replacing the ladies’ glossy lips with their dog-like smelly saliva.
And we their errand boys will sit down slowly sipping the bottle passed down to us. The roasted meat much on their table, waiting for the time they are well drunk before we attempt any trick less we fall prey to the wicked brutality much in their hand.
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