POETRY INSPIRED BY WOMEN The Cave Of Love (1991)She is half Munyoro, half Lugbara. She looks attractive in a grey summerdress. Sweet like Kakira molasses, Kabalagala pancakes, Buyi Buyi confectioneries and tamarind juice! She's so yummy that by default, she is the mummy. I'm the daddy at 7 years old, ain't it funny? When she turns me on, I feel like entering her cave as a young pornstar. All I need is a few inches of space, To put a smile on my face. She's my Sweet Target, Coming to her America, Hotel California, Like a Predator, Universal Soldier, Rambo and Commando! I'm her Diehard, Nowhere to run. She takes me straight to the upper room in our flat with her bed. Lies on the left side and waits for me; I take off all my clothes and drop them on the floor, Near the right backfoot of her bed. Then I get under her bed-cover. Now is the time! Although my father owns a car like Batman, I do not own a car but she invites me into her cave like Earlyman. The only money I have in my pocket was stolen from my mother's drawer, It's quite little! The other thing I can give her is a bicycle, Let her ride around the next block. This girl is a winner! She gives me a chance like Boudreaux and becomes my Natasha. Her voice is like a gramophone player, Earthquake 110! Is this our karma? Nothing's gonna change my love for you! When she cooks rice and cabbage or greens, I get afternoon lunch to satisfy my hunger and lust. The aroma entices me. I love my neighbour's daughter as I love myself. Is that a commandment from JESUS or do I twist it, To fit my own sweetest taboo feelings? When beaten by her elders for a mistake made, I do not want to hear her cry in pain, Because whenever she hurts, I feel her strain. She is always on my brain. I wish she becomes my wife, But she loses her life. Unbreak my heart! You are frozen when your heart is not open. Grass SoupThe grass is greener on the other side, Until rain falls on your side. Instead of complaining about rainfall, Collect rainwater, Or let grass grow freely! Her thighs are brown like brand-new 1,000 UGX banknotes. I do not know why I like entering inside her skirt, But maybe it's the bathing soap she uses. Makes her bodily scent very enticingly magnetic; I breathe it in with pleasure. If you do not eat meat, Then, like Nebuchadnezzar, eat grass (poaceae); With half-cooked onion slices! She buys me a hard skyblue towel as a gift; I keep it for decades. Gamsahamnida!
Black Beauty (1993)Most of the boys fancy her taller, lightskinned friend who is always with her; But for me I want only her. Nobody can change my mind; my fantasy is full. Mi want yu fi know, Mi find mi heartbeat again, ah! She is short, dark-skinned and extremely beautiful like Halle Berry and Rita combined. Very intelligent too like an architect, Yale University material! When I see her during schoolbreaks, I clown around like am a sporty Superman. She's my favourite woman; The Black Lois Lane! Can I save her when she jumps into the Nile River near Ripon or Bujagali Falls? Forget Transformers, Zelda, Galaxy Rangers, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and Zorro, I want to be her real superhero! I want to marry this madam, Her name is Mariam. She inspires me to be good at my soccer game. Love is tough, but I want to give her my last name. "Leave (Get Out) Ugandan Reply" by MR. AIKO [Lyrics posted as Facebook Notes in 2010 but inspired by 1994] Jojo, you want me gone, But where will I go? I don't even have another place to go. There's no halfway-house between intimacy and loneliness, Can't you see? I really need you in my life, To share those spaghetti jokes and rides with me. But if you want me to leave, I think I better get out. And when you change your mind, We gonna be together always. Silent Prayer Chick landed for my art, Her loud confession; Classmates ask if she didn't land for me. Meanwhile, I landed for her booty: Face, frame and nyash. She caresses my left arm with her right hand near the Artroom; I feel a powerful tingling within me. Tells me she wants to produce me for the inter-house speech competition. Unfortuntely, a different housemate gets the role. For me, I act in a play instead. Silently, I want to be very close to her, But another classmate always follows her around; So, I play it safe and just wait for my minutes. Angel of mine, We should elope to Taiwan! I think of her as a perfect woman, Definitely one of my Top 3 in the school. GOD hears my heart's desire, Makes her sit directly infront of me in the whole of my final year before campus. My desk is her backrest, How sweet! I didn't ask for this, But: Hallelujah! She's my resident moral support, Even if I do not confess it to anybody; Only my Best Friend who is like an alter-ego knows. Sometimes, I breathe her into my lungs like fresh oxygen. My chick-magnet deskmate tells her to look behind, Then asks me if her lips are the best part of her body, I answer his question shamelessly: No, Her entire body is good! She resists a smile and looks away. Whimsical Friday sunrise, am alone in class with the Deputy Headgirl. She tells me my shirt is dirty but I disagree, Even though I hadn't washed it for two days. Folding up my left sleeve to prove me wrong, We both uncover the brown truth, Which amazingly turns us into laughmates. She had the power to send me back to the hostel to wash up, But the Munyarwanda didn't. I never faced any issues with her again after that; It was all about mutual respect and friendship only. She sat in the front row but would visit me in the second-last row to chat, Before my deskmate arrived. Flavoured like chewing gum Or freshlyground coffee, She also smelt like delicious milk sometimes; I could have drunk her! My hostel deckermate called her my girlfriend, But I denied it. Shorty liked my art skills, I also admired her whimsical curmudgeon-esque persona. Because of my disappearing stunt in our final term together, She nicknames me Guest Star. We should have done an advert for Omo or any other detergent. I cherished her calls when I joined a separate campus; Told her I could identify her distinct trademark laugh through wires, Even if she didn't introduce herself. Lugbara Woman (2001 Perfect Rhyme Poem about Arua City by Aiko) She wore a green hood, The same colour as Barifa Forest in the neighbourhood. She's got swag, As boujie as a WAG! What else can I say? This woman makes my day. Like an angel in a white dress, she is very beautiful! My crush on her is sincere and truthful. Honey is sweet, But she reminds me of a lollipop sweet. I see her walking with her friend, So, to her a Facebook message I send. She has me imprisoned in her pocket. I always think about her and cannot run away from reality even if I was a rocket. She inspires me to be myself. I'm a lover; not a robber, killer nor destroyer like Mr. Wolf. She's dope and perfect, I cannot help but respect! If she was a type of energy in the vicinity, Then she would be solar electricity! She's a fan of the Caterpillars from Onduparaka. However, I want her to be my Kakaparaka. It's a cold world, Everybody needs a hood to hold. Who do you trust? Is it GOD or money, coins and medals which can rust? The grass is greener not only on the other side, But also wherever rain falls or water flows, you decide! I adore the way she looks at me like a brown hawk, Those brown eyes contain volumes of data; I wish they could talk. Where do wrecked hearts go? They go where they can heal. She is my Arua City, The Sweetest Place on Earth named after a hill. She makes me feel as superhigh as Arua Hill and Mount Wati. Playing and chatting with her is always a party! I'm in the clouds with the black and white birds called gaagaa, Feeling eerie and gaga! When am down like an injured dove, GOD, she touches my heart with love. I'm a spooning snuggler, Not a smuggler. From dusk till dawn, I wish my IQ is high like the top floor of the Tallest Building in A-Town. When she's next to me, it's like my life has no problem. Her presence neutralises each of them. This woman is Arua One FM music to my ears. She eases my fears. Like Muni Suburb, her Lugbara language skills are impeccable and very important; She can even replace my Google Assistant. She tells me she likes me because I treat her better than other people have done, So I kiss her twice to show that she is my Number One Lugbara Woman. If I were her Komendaku from Tara Subcounty in Maracha, Then she would be my Mount Liru, a West Nile tourism feature! Everytime I travel far away from her, I feel a weird heaviness nagging my heart. After many years, she might forget me but I do not want us to grow apart. She's all am living for. Thanks, awa'difo! Josephine (2004) I'm in the hostel commonroom eating Saturday lunch close to evening. It's the 2nd week of the 2nd month in my 2nd year on campus, Uganda's 42nd Uhuru Day; So many 2s here! My neighbour walks in with two ladies like an Arsenal Invincible or Barcelona legend, Ronaldinho. Tells me to watch one of them for him; He knows I do not hurt women. Anita is his wife-to-be and he escorts her out of the compound. Meanwhile, Josephine informs me that she is studying Architecture in a neighbouring town. I tell her to ask for any soda on me from the canteen. She chooses a Fanta Orange. We walk to my room, she sits on my bed sipping her drink. I show her an architectural plan I drew from a recent lucid-high dreamvision; She advises me about improvements: Add ventilation plus natural lighting! Beauty in a building originates from materials, draftsmanship and shapes, Whether rare or usual. Create what your senses reveal to you! No problem! Exactly one week later, that is the 2nd Saturday of knowing her, She returns to our commonroom, Makes a confession that she did some research on me. She likes me, she likes me; I think I hear that twice. Two of my Old Girls (Ruth and Cisse) told her some things about me. This must be Heaven! She Cares But I Want All Of Her ♥♥♥ Guess what, She cares about me but I want all of her! Half Itesot or Langi and half Indian; She's like three hearts in one, so sweet! Always asks about me! It's My Life! She's a socket plus adapter and am a three-pin plug. Without her, I feel powerless. I cherish her generosity towards me, she has a very kind heart! She brings me food which I eat happily, Matoke and beef plus Coca-Cola like a popstar. We kick a football of love back and forth on top of Arua Hill for a while. I try to make sure it does not roll off the hill, But the ball finally rolls down. I go and get the ball back while she returns home. I head to her place and leave the ball with her; She must return it to whoever she borrowed it from and lent to me. A simple hug or SMS can put a smile on your face. It's an honour to be the first number in her phone book. People say she is my Girlfriend, But she calls a different man Boyfriend. She finds herself a Husband, Tells me I will be perfect without her. I can only be 90 percent perfect, She is the remainder that completes me. She cared very early, Made me unstoppable like a runaway train, But like a playboy, I cared too late, Though she knew I liked her. Losing her to a different man is load-shedding. Maybe I should go and look after cattle in Congo as consolation. Her half-sister who stands out like J. Lo is my temporary UPS for backup computer power; I'm real! I can see her halo. Hey, be my baby! She's the Vice Prezo of my ka-small heart. I thought her stepsis would be mine forever, Whether am poor or rich. But now it's clear that I was dead wrong like a Nigga With Attitude, Straight outta Jinja. The blackout is so sorrowful that I feel lonely. I have nobody to call my own. You never took the time to know me. I cannot fight civilly for her love. My faith in love has departed, I feel hopeless! The sun and moon cannot meet but they share the same light. Love is like a flask, When it falls, it breaks. Matter of fact, A wall in my heart cracked. Samosa In A Blue Bucket (Poem by Aiko)Going the wrong way on a oneway street, You only end up in a wreckage, Not marriage. I'm attracted by her sweet scent and the graceful way she carries herself. I love her husky voice too. Is there any more room for me in those jeans? Other boys also want her, She tells me about two though I think there are more, But am not afraid of their competition; I'm my own competition, The lottery himself, Picked Number 262, Spotless and invincible in my mind! Why not? One humid evening, I strut to her new hostel near the main road; Her pawpawlicious roommate is not around, so we jazz privately, This visit was fitting like my grey Reebok boots at the door. After sunset, she courteously escorts me to a T-Junction about 200 meters away, As if my own Beatrice in Dante's Inferno. It felt so pleasant that when I reached my hostel, I screamed more than once in our common room and praised JAH for creating women. I'm a kid in Wonderland, Like a big Reggae fan at Summer Jam! My closest friends already call her my wife but there is a problem. Several times when I think about her on a sunny day, I notice a drizzle from the clear open sky above me; It's like the angels are crying because of what I do not know about the future. When it's not meant to be, it cannot happen. Kasese, we have a problem! Why did I follow her star for 16 months? Why did I desire her samosa in a blue bucket? The heart wants what it wants. I wrong her for the first time and spend a night in jail, Feeling cursed, Even after returning the photo I stole from her huge collection. I did not intend to hurt her; She has very nice golden-brown boobs. Young babe forgives me for messing up but does not know why she does not want to talk to me. She assures me in a note that what I did was my "Waterloo", Maybe I was her Emperor like Napoleon for only 100 days. Fine, you win! I lipsync to her like Terrence Howard to Ashanti. I sleep out of town on Saturday night, To prepare for my final onslaught. I may never have anything to do with her again, But try to make amends the following week. I'm obsessed with her like a scarecrow in a garden and continue to fight for her love. On the next Saturday night, I take to her a gift she asked for before I blundered. She rejects it, Tells me she will get whatever I want to give her "from another man"; Life is a bitch, but I owe her nara! Maybe if I possessed a Toyota Rav4, Then she could have been mine. That exact moment in time, I quit chasing her samosa, Even immediately inform the dude who offered to be my Best man. I stop discussing academic work with her indefinitely; No regrets, just living my life. Detachment heals rejection. I harness our separation as fuel to improve my academics to another level, Higher than before. I'm a survivor! We grow apart before Valentine's Day. My buddies tell me they expect me to take her out on a V-Night date. Unfortunately, it's all over! All my previous visits to her room plus gifts go to waste; The four lovecards I made, A little cashmoney, Plus the wonderful pink jumper on her birthday. Being broke as a joke ain't funny! Inside, it's like the third wall of my heart is wrecked after two previous wall cracks. I'm left with only one unaffected wall still standing. I need to rebuild the walls of my heart, Before it shuts down completely. What do you call the final defeat that comes after Waterloo? I call it Death; I'm living the Afterlife now. Maybe she's out of my league; I haven't got everything she needs. After 1,000 Ugandan nights, She perplexes me with her revived Yahoo chats; Apologises for "acting like a bitch", Her own words. I'm invited for her wedding to the luckier man, But can't attend for personal reasons. She tells me she cried because of the things I said about our growing apart. What's up, babe? I confess to her that I forgave her a long time ago; She's still my friend, My Megabyte, Though not doppelgaenger(in) like I wanted. The Visitor (2005) She comes, sees and conquers. I do not even know her name, But she boldly addresses me as "boyfriend". Is it a prank, hell date, internship or should I take it so personal? The Visitor thought I was shy, But was later grateful that I became her friend. She's cute, super-calm, intelligent and electro-magnetic! Even her own blood sister agrees that she is amazing. She reaches out to me in my doldrums. Reset; restart! Her hug, back rub and touch can mend a wrecked heart; She's a healer, my match made offline! Nuclear energy, so ballistic! R.I.P to the girl I used to see. I do not have to ask the Visitor 21 questions, Five are enough. I address her as "galfi". Like a Peacekeeper in Afghanistan, she protects my heart. She's my remedy and melody! When she unstraps her pink bra, The side view of her left breast is very titillating; I'm having a blast like matoke and offals plus yellow fruit juice for brunch. She reminds me of ripe jackfruits and raw mangoes; Wasps better step aside! Her thighs look thick and well nourished. She exercises in the sportsfield on Saturday mornings to stay fit. My male friends ask me what she has. Well, folks: Her curves are like brackets in Mathematics, That's 1-0! Bounce is majestic like Physics, The Chemistry between us is geographical. Her peck is agricultural. She makes me feel butterflies in my stomach, Like no other girl before her. Cheers to a new beginning! This woman is like sunrise after a dark night. The Best Place on Earth is in her arms; I know her perfume. She is worth more than booze, Mobile Money or bread. Mutual friends tell me she only dates galacticos, But am part galactico, part invincible: When we lose, we draw. I want her to be my sugarwoman; However, she is taken far far far away by Whites and am back to where I started, again: My plug is pulled out of the socket, I lose her like the samosa in a blue bucket, Her chocolate melts in my pocket. Searching for a pot of gold like a leprechaun? I won't judge her. Feeling so tired, Having trouble sleeping. Goodbye for now, I'm not the type to say: I told you so! The hardest part of holding on is letting go. She asks me online if I have a Girlfriend. I tell her if she is not the One, Then I have none. Even though am not in her league, at least I love her bracket hips. Ain't nothing wrong with trying to love somebody, Trying to tell her: 143! Why Always Me? (2006)
I love women,Beautiful, exciting and caring! But I've never desired to be one. Two babes invite me to discuss a course unit with them at night. Why always me? Didn't know there would be four more women there, Went with only my green and white radio scanner plus head. The amazonesque convener jokes that they can rape me; Let's get down and eat fene! I have nothing to lose coz am a bachelor. Wise King Solo had 700 wives and 300 concubines, I can handle six. Where does that leave my girlfriend? Even if I had all that money, I just can't do without my love. I'm the odd man out in the entire bedroom; Odd woo-man out, for gender balance. After the discussions, the one with the biggest nyash escorts me to the roadside, Bringing back one of my favourite moments with my ex-love interest. At my hostel, I sleep like a baby from start to finish, No dreaming, But wake up with seeds on my bed. The following night, The same thing happens, again: Six women, Smooth discussions, Peaceful sleep, Seeds on my bed. MotokaShe finds me in the kitchen making juice, Rubs my spine unexpectedly. I tell her President M7 has a kiwalata bald head because he drinks a lot of juice; She laughs heartily. I always try to make her smile, More fulfilling when she bursts out laughing. In the dining room, I sit directly opposite her. She rubs my feet with her toes under the table. When other people are around, She wears a long dress and covers her big breasts well. When am alone with her, She changes into a maroon minidress with thin straps over her shoulders. Leaves her literally half naked, Exposing her flowery beauty: A succulent bust and thick brown thighs. I resist the temptation to get near her nor look, As she lies on the crimson sofa on my left. I continue reading newspapers. She loves TV but the screen is spoilt; Only radio can entertain her when am quiet. On Saturday evenings, She kneels and irons the clothes she washes for the week in my room, Unbuttons her blouse to expose her left boob as I lie on my bed. Is it too hot in here or is she just enticing me again? She keeps giving me indicator signals but I remain e'yere slow. If she was a car, Then she would be a double cabin pickup truck. Drive slow or you might crash, young man! Though less educated coz she's a P5 dropout While am campus level, I do not despise her: Her hotness alone is high class! This househelp makes the sweetest millet porridge. The Foreigner (2008)The first time I see her, She is wearing natural afro-hair. I land for her immediately even though she appears hard to get. The boot camp we are in will last one month, So I plan to befriend her against all odds; Play my game like The Arsenal Invincibles at home against Liverpool. The whole camp goes out for a festival on the other side of town, We dance together for the first time: Ama woro anzi MUNGU ni, Sitani, ida mi 'dale! Translated from my mother tongue Lugbara, Which she probably didn't understand: We are all GOD's children, Satan, vacate aside! She asks me to exchange my country's currency for hers. Harambee! I happily give her the money and tell her there is a bonus. When we return to our camp, I dance with her again until midnight. It's like we invent our own jig, I honestly fancy her. She is a pleasant, immaculate woman! I buy her a beer as the bonus I promised, She tells her girls who accuse me of ignoring them. My male friends joke that I want to hop on her ass; Maybe it's true! She has great tact with children, I admire that skill in her. Even when I later see her kissing another man from a different far far far-away country, I tell her that I love her; Takes the weight off my heart. All I want is to be her friend; I guess I achieve that. This is my story of Life! She is like drinking ice-cold Safi in a plastic cup or sipping Mango juice in a Splash box through a straw, House of Dawda! She's my V&A Sherry, Club beer and Smirnoff Black Ice! Although I believe she is made of something precious, She does not act like she is too good for me. She allows me to use her laptop, I gift her some great blues songs from my flashdisk as my farewell gift though given to me by an older woman. Foreigner lets me know that she loves the music when she returns to her country. Twin TelepathyIt's not easy to differentiate mademoiselle from her identical twin sister's face, But I know phonenumbers do not lie, Unless they switch phonelines, To mess me up like R. Kelly and Usher or AK-47. I learn that fact the hard way. She's got really strong hands, Can even shake me as do earthquakes. I love the way she sings, She's in the city-church choir, Guess she can act well too, Plus speaks good French; Definitely Vision Group Twin Festival material. I wish I could teach her Chinese. Her smile is remarkable, Hospitality is her forte, Even my Ex-heartthrob calls her "beautiful". Oui, elle est belle! Her birthday is exactly half a year from mine. Like snacks, she adds double flavour to my single life. I fancy the mental telepathy between us, As though am a Kisoro Man. Her hospitality is welcome. Will she come to Arua, Or turn me into her fraternal hubby? Let's tour our country, Like two big elephants in the sunset, Enjoy art paintings plus West Nile mangoes! But maybe we are not meant to be together forever.
Red Pain I'm walking down the Lane, Going to the Public Library. Suddenly from behind, someone calls my name. I thought no stranger in this hood knows my face nor frame. I don't believe in my own fame. When I turn to look at who it might be, I'm smitten: Wow, this girl is really beautiful like a perfect 10; She could have been a flower in the valley, Definitely Number 1 on my list, The Beauty of beauties, My Black Britney Spears! Four years younger than me, But better than Beyonce and all the supermodels I have ever seen! Her shekinah is not regular. I wonder what her lifestyle is like. They say: Wise Men come from the East; Beautiful Women too. The stunner's appearance is delicious Like maize porridge with groundnut paste in it. She is taking her younger sister to Arua Hospital for medication. I have never even seen them before. I can't believe am everything she wants in a man. She has everything I desire in a woman: Beauty, respect, eloquence and three layers of love, Which are hard to find mashed up in one person. Our connection is like free Wi-Fi. I love everything about her and vice versa; It's just that I do not trust her, Too beautiful to be undisturbed by other dudes. She tells her Best Friend am her Boyfriend, But she is not sure if I love her as much as she does, Because I've never spoken it with my tongue; I only texted it via Uganda Telecom. That's very funny you know! Actions speak louder than words, But sometimes actions are just unnecessary noise. Maybe I shouldn't chat about politics, But kiss her lips instead. She worries that I only love her like a brother would, Though am just cautious and patient; Playing it very very very safe, Simply enjoying the back and forth moments she gives me. Obsession can cause heartwreck, So I take everything slow, While patienty waiting for the end of her Makerere University studies. To distract herself from wanting me too deeply, She gets my replacement without restraint. The midday I randomly confirm the secret I wanted to discover, As if led by the Holy Spirit to her hostel gate which I did not know, So cruel is the pain, That I almost faint, Under the pressure of the hot Kampala Sun. No tears formed nevertheless, I just accepted the situation: I'm not down and out, Neither the first nor last to go through this. "Topowa," don't quit the game! Mac Elvis must have sang that song for fans like me: My love was just misleading me, Yet I cherished her like a cement wall adores Sadolin paint. She's the type I would wish for when cast away on an island. All my family would have loved her, Even by force. Later in the evening, My favourite football club Arsenal beats Blackburn 4-0, Andrei Arshavin scores his first goal as a Gunner, But the match feels like a goalless draw, Because my pain is red. Even highlights of Liverpool's early kickoff 4-1 win at Manchester United do not console me. While returning home at dusk, I rest against a wall fence in Bukoto to send an SMS to my supervisor and almost get arrested, As a suspect for a robbery the previous night, But plead tactfully for mercy from the plump woman who was attacked. Then vacate the Capital City to unwind in the Lado Enclave like a zonto. I'm so paid, I keep my pockets full. All I need in this life of twists, Is paper therapy; Let the money relax me! A wise woman in Mukono once told me: Chase money, not skirts! I chased both. My boobilicious Best Friend gets engaged and marries the other guy, Bringing my Worst Premonition to life. I wish for evening to come immediately that morning in Arua. Life is too short, You have to mend your damaged heart very fast or die young! Rumours (2010) The Parish supervisor believes am sleeping with my workmate; He spreads the rumours. My workmate reports him to me. Maybe I should mess with her to clear my name, Maybe I shouldn't, but she always looks sexy, Many men in the Subcounty talk about her casual but very raunchy bodyhugging fashion. I hear them say that we should advise our colleague to dress more decently; I think it's just her outgoing personality that enhances her slimfit booty. The locals are probably mesmerised by her youthful swerve. I encourage her not to worry about any insults the villagemen spew, But act like she has earphones on; She giggles. On the first day of work when an older already-married male workmate plus myself have nowhere else to sleep because we finish work late, She lets us rest on her mattress in a nearby rented brick and mortar room. Her roommate who lets her sleep next to her is against allowing strange men sleep next to them in the same room. The three of us transfer to a grass-thatched mud-hut the next sunrise, Pay rent for a month, 3,000 UGX for one room; I actually double it to be fair. My male workmate gets a mattress for us from his Maracha home, So that she sleeps alone on the mattress she lent us the preceding night. She asks me to take her to the home of my ancestors; It's my pleasure. I felt time freeze for a moment. What I respect about this girl is that she always prays for us before we sleep. She's very engaging in conversation and I actually adore her, that's not a rumour; The supervisor probably sees that in the way I treat and look at her. One morning, she informs me that all her kids are in her womb; Their spirits come from outer space. At sunset, we walk back to our hut holding hands, The supervisor struts behind us with her former roommate. Maybe he deduces a chemistry and physics between us! Another day, she sits on a bench covering my lap, I explain to her why I prefer the Tab button on computer keyboards. She tells me her funny stories, Pours some of her tea into my cup after I finish mine, I drink it happily without worrying about any disease. We fetch water together from the borehole. Pump slow! She instructs me like the teacher she is at Maracha SS and I oblige with a glow. Other girls who give us right of way watch us. I use a dry-cell-powered torch but buy kerosene for her local tadoba lamp, Plus edibles such as sugar as gratitude. She asks me, "How come your phone rarely rings?" Then threatens to put an aphrodisiac in the food she cooks for me. I'm not scared, Bring the marriage certificates for us to sign! The female Subcounty team leader actually approves of our friendship like a mother would. There is nothing dirty in my room to mop away, Let's get jiggy! If you want something, go for it! Netuchachancha wid evry ting nyce, effortlessly: We have dinner for two at a restaurant after the FA Cup Final, I feel like Didier Drogba with my cup of water! She rubs my back and spine as farewell. It's Dancehall Saturday, But I go to sleep in a different hut before jigging starts, feeling exhausted. I want to wake up early Sunday morning and head to the home church. The village rumours do not affect me negatively, I lose nothing, not even my image. Let them talk! I tell my workmate that maybe the supervisor sees me eat her in spirit; She tastes like fresh yam. As the first woman I took to my ancestral village, My cousins ask me to bring her back. CareMoney can't buy love, But maybe it can buy care for a day, 30,000 UGX! Isn't it also free? One by one makes a Kyebando; Kisalosalo, Nsoba, Central, etc. I didn't convert to Islam so that I can marry four wives. However, the Koran frees you to appreciate another woman who impresses you, When rejected by other women. It's my 8th year after reciting the shahada, Nyabo in white gives me a high wooden stool to sit on. I'm literally in her hands right now, Completely naked! Can't hide anything from her apart from my thoughts. Like a wounded Philistine giant, She nurses my cuts steadily with care; Keeps pouring clean water on me. In fact, she can do to me anything she wants; I'm sweating haplessly because she is in full control. I hold the stool tightly with both hands behind me, So that am not knocked out plus down by excitement. The smell of her oily perm dominates my mind, Babe keeps rubbing her hair against my forehead, Like temple communication! I breathe in her scent for a moment, While she inhales mine too. When she finishes her job and walks to the backdoor, I desire more time with her, But can't get extra time. ChapatiHot chick is dressed in all white, Hot white to be precise, Top and pants; Covers her stretchmarks well like a cowgirl. She's tall and hot like her sister, Cassava does wonders! This is the era of Natasha's father, Eat your alifu towi (5,000 UGX)! There's a get-together pan mi yard. Deejay plays the music after nightfall: My Miss, Sesetula; Kikankanye [Let it shake]! Feeling my hands on both sides of her big behind as though possessed, A different kyana in a grey skirt turns, To see who touched her. Earlier, she said she liked me, while tipsy, Tried to return the favour. She did not slap me; Nevertheless, I move left to dance with the taller big girl, At the TV corner, Put my right thigh between her thicker thighs, And try to rub against her watertap naughtily; It may be pleasant, But also embarassing if I turn her tap on. The room is dimly lit, So I hope noone around us will notice. She doesn't kick my groin with her right thigh in repulsion, But courteously dances along. Then she puts her hand on my chest, As if grabbing my heart, Gently moves me against the wall, About two meters away. Turns her booty around, Bends over at an angle, Like she's picking up groceries. Then starts twerking on my body, Sliding left and right, Up and down like a tennisball; Paying me back in full measure: An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, A tap for a tap. I'm caught between a brickwall and a soft place, Feeling as paralysed as wallpaper. Young woman irons my pair of trousers using her own booty heat without apologies.Normal body temperature is usually 37 degrees Celsius,However, mine rises to 39 and over immediately.I'm a captive in her flower garden tonight;Luckily, she clipped her thorns. I cannot escape her trap though; Stuck with her like nganu mixed with warm water, oil plus salt. She flips the script with her rolling pin, Flattens me like a chapati on a board, Then throws me where her big black sigiri tawa-pan is, Standing on two tall legs. Brushing rhythmically, It feels as if she added honey as an ingredient To make the Most Delicious Chapati ever. Hot chick cooks me like pasta. Isn't this why the birds sing to me? Lala la, lala, lalala! Even rebels get converted by love like this. I want more chapati from her but shouldn't be greedy. When she thirsts for a drink, I bring her red watermelon juice from a green jerrycan outside hurriedly, Not water. I think I should drink it too, It's an aphrodisiac. Maybe I should get her cabbage too! Village boys may give her a C in the front, But she's an A behind; Boom! This is not torture, But chapati, Asanti! Use A CondomOne morning in KLA, I wake up from a dream Telling me bluntly to "use a condom". Though I made family planning teaching guides in Makindye, I didn't fancy condoms; They promote fornication, adultery and prostitution. Before midday, I'm visited by a woman Who has the Biggest Nyash I have ever acknowledged outside the capital city; She's huge and mature enough to be my sugarmummy. Wasn't expecting her, But she offers to mop the whole house for me; Three rooms only. When she bent over in a blue skirt, It meant her behind stood out above every other part of her body. I sat in the sitting room at the corner, Couldn't close my eyes but appreciate what GOD gave her. Since I didn't know if she had a husband, Or an STD, Or was a shapeshifting entity sent to trap me, I fight off lust. If I was not strong enough in resisting temptation, Then I might have rushed to buy a condom On the next block. Maybe the dream was insight about possible danger. When she finished mopping, She sat on a mat not far from my feet as we watched TV. I thanked her, Chatted more than 39 words, Then gave her tea with brown bread she never forgot for years. She has very sexy legs! Like a 10,000 UGX SanDisk Micro SD memory card, She filled me up with melodious wonder; Even invited me to spend a night at her home. Vibes do not require a lot of money. Second RoundWelcome to our ghetto! Everytime I see her, My skin cells become unstable, Like there is fire under my skin, Wishing for her calming touch. I control myself, But my body remains alert, Just in case she comes closer. She makes the sign of the cross, Then drinks water in an army-green cup; That's Roman Catholic! I'm Protestant. Wish I could make her laugh, Maybe 25K cash would. I usually eat one round of food, But if she cooked for me, I would take another plate; No burnt beans, Everything so yellow, Like Winter mangoes in January. Behind every exciting woman, There is a man following her. I do not fancy crunching red guavas, However the juice is redrinkably tasty; Second round! Like black fuel in a blue Smart Home, She's always relevant; Awa'difo! GOD bless her soul! Yoghurt (2018)
From sunrise to sunset, she works as hard as metal,
Moves around a lot.
She's like fuel in a maroon Toyota Duet and am the ignition key.Rats should stay away! Her laugh is quite loud, but it's okay. My woman is my property. She is down to Earth like a mango and guava tree; Always perfumed too, A blue-hot star girl! Her figure looks nice, Reminds me of a Coca-Cola bottle! This girl has meat, Even if she doesn't believe it! I would cheerfully give her a full sack of cassava to accompany that, Plus 40 litres of Arua Water. She's not only mango juice but also my yoghurt, Which smells like nganu wheat flour. It's not as eggwhite as her soft petticoat plus harder mini-skirt, But still a mark of my hunger, As well as suffocating desire. In her videogame world, am Bosiko. She has power in her fingers to control me like a console. I cannot disrespect her even when she taunts that I have no peepee, Hope it is not reverse psychology; I'm just self-controlled. "Mummy!" She cries out when my sudden appearance surprises her. There's a gallop of water in my mouth, Soothes the throat when I finally swallow it and apologise. "It's okay," she consoles me. Like a charcoal stove in the kitchen,Gas stove flame,Or smoking joint burning steadily,She heats me up.My blood boils as if it's milk. Lady looks delicious like ombangulu in a skyblue blouse and black skirt. Do I have to beg for her gash? This melanin-skinned angel has swash! She wore a skyblue hood! Blackskin wiggles her nyash while clad in a light-yellow towel, As if trying to tease me, Tells me I made myself docile here, If only she knew how intensely she enchants me. It's just that I hide the hard truth from her. I need a drift formula. Even though we are not married, Only death can separate us. She invites me for tea, I tell her I do not drink too much sugar; All I want is yoghurt. PeaceIt's my favourite girl's transcendental and sunny birthday afternoon. There is a dinner for several people expected at my mam and pap's crib; Maybe 30. I help cut and roast two chicken with a babe in a mini-summerdress. Although her dresscode is too provocative for a bornagain Christian, She almost reminds me of my first love. I'm grateful that she keeps her shouting thighs together in the outer kitchen, Coz am fasting. She can't believe some chicken live for 30 years. Her wellcovered colleague meanwhile, Prepares the cassava, matoke and other things on the verandah. Dressed in a red blouse and black skirt, Her waist curve is super-amazing; I'm awestricken by the window view of her backframe when I enter the inner kitchen, GOD is creative! At night, I sit on her rightside in the dining, While the other cook sits with a neighbour's sister opposite us. There is a small torch in my left pocket, Its shape through the trousers may give a wrong message, But I do not care though am totally calm: Afterall, my heart appreciates the chick next to me; Maybe she can see into me. She sounds quite mature, Though too loud and lively for someone silent like me. I tell her: This matoke is maganda! That's Filipino for "beautiful" though she might have interpreted it differently; Trying to compliment her for the cooking. She chuckles and shouts: That is the funniest thing I've heard today. The boys in the bigger sitting room tell her she should stay behind in Arua with me, Instead of returning to KLA. After the food and drinks, I help my mother pour honey in white 5-liter jerrycans; Superwaist comes to watch us like a sunflower. Feels quite volatile when the female you admire Stares at you while you do something slower; It's fuel, motivation to be perfect, No fumbling. We pray to disparse before midnight. While am walking out behind her, She stops suddenly and probably reverses; Her glorious maximus bumps into my body. I feel the pleasant heaviness; It sends electricity through me. We continue walking out. At the exit door, She bends over unannounced to pick her footwear, This time bumping my body harder. I almost fall backwards, Thankfully, my stamina keeps me balanced, Around 39 degrees off the centre of gravity. Then I tell her: Thanks for coming! She could have been my Peace for life, But goodbye, nyabo! Incandescent (2020)Because of her radiance, She glows like the Kansas Sun at dawn. Her beauty lights up my day, Like a bird at the Bay. What else can I say? She's incandescent: This woman can sway. Bless her everyday, LORD, I pray! Coldshoulder (2022)She jumped from my Top 3 to top of the tree; Photosynthesis. MUNGU ni fe ni, ERI vini ga ni; GOD is who gives, HE is also who refuses. A natural beauty, I loved the way her sad eyes hawked at me. Her tender hands left fingerprints in my heart. She told me she liked me because I treated her better than everyone else. I always tried to make her giggle with my stories, jokes, games and later texts. However, am not funny anymore; I had the audacity to ask the husband of her youth for her phone number. She assures me she was just tolerating me, Finally warns me to stop nagging her. The Beautyful One is not interested in my obsession. All I wanted was her friendship until infinity. Disconnection is redirection, But I won't let that come between us; I'm going to love her forever. Slim RedShe's Black, slim and short, Like I like. I first saw her at night, But couldn't match the face during daytime, Simply because she wore spectacles the other time. But the voice, oh my GOD! It's musically unforgettable, Plucks chords in my heart, Like Tiwa Savage. She looks angelic in her all-black dress,Which compliments her Black skin. Let's take a shortwalk, dear! Two red hearts under a white umbrella. Or should it be red in colour too?! She's my G, Like red beans and white rice. A few hours with her is as sweet as a full week; She put me in a backpack like a Nigerian. Thank you so much, dear! World CupChilling next to a goodlooking, hard-to-please businesswoman, For roughly 30 minutes with one interval break, Is close to winning the FIFA World Cup after extra time. Make the sign of the cross! I did not ask for this, Nor the comfort trip to KLA, Nor surprise meeting in Ntinda, But it is the small random pleasure given to me in my grief. I hear three nymphs talking about how I have a big agele; However, I try hard to control my lust like the heaven I felt near Lweza. I do not want to burn in Hell. She pledged to give me a goat if I find a wife as Messi did, But I found the warmth in her thighs instead, On a cold evening outside. Like fried-and-then-cooked chicken, She is fingerlickingly well-salted. The only thing that can ruin her taste is overtalking. Quietness is a beautiful virtue. Zaru (2023)With a wooven khaki ogea harvest basket in her left hand, She doesn't mind spending some extra time with me. How kind of this oku woman from Maracha! She's my Jamila; I feel like West B. Her lovely kitenge dress is sharp and cutting edge Like brand new Dorco Titan stainless steel razor blades, Made in Vietnam. No artificial dribi hair, Nor fancy perfume scent on her, Just a clean, fresh, natural body odour! Black skin is not the Most Beautiful Woman around, Not even chocolate, But at least she has iza meat, Bumpy like humps on a murram bypass road. Whereas men grow potbellies at the front, Women deposit their oso fat behind. Her Lugbara nyash tells me to follow her, It's a lockdown; No way out, No retreat, Only surrender! Ride or die! The race is on; I can't say No. Had missed this blissful interlude for seven months,No holding back this time.I have to put my mind to it and finish. She looks left and right; Wondering for a moment what's happening behind her. Is it rock hard to figure out? Calm down! Ready or not, Here I come, You can't hide. All women are beautiful! She's probably less than 7 in the face, But definitely 8 to 10 in the ass; Up or down, We'll stick together until the very end. Our bodies communicate like woodglue, Zero distance, Chapter 39! Is she from Nyoro or Zambia Village? She wore a black and teal attire. Feel the breeze as if we are in a desert! I love the Ayivu wind this morning. Now is the time! It's approaching or probably already sawa na itusi, 9am; Clouds in the sky look as chubby as Cupid, The weather out here is humid. No rain yet, But am already wet, Like a maize cob floating in a narrow riverstream nearby; That waterbody in the valley should be named after her, Not the Nile. Take what you get, Sausage and juice! Smartly dressed in a brand new, skyblue, 100 percent-cotton garment with orange stripes, Bought from Gaagaa Market, though made in People's Republic of China, Why should I be embarrassed by an abrupt moment of pleasure? This woman is my treasure! Worth more than only 4,000 UGX, She's my seed-school and hotel mashed up in one darkskinned female. Ugandan WomenBateso are as beautiful as a fantasy; Batoro can join them like Cushites (Ethiopians and Rwandese). Lugbara have very sweet voices, Like ripe mangoes, pineapples and passion fruits; no sugar. Banyankole are endowed infront and behind, Maybe because of amate [cow milk]. Baganda are loaded; They love money and work hard for it like independent ladies. Asians especially Indians add yellow spice to the Ugandan population. Basoga are mysterious; The brownskinned ones represent well the red soil on which they toil. For GOD and my Uganda. |
WHAT DO WOMEN WANT?
Every woman has her own unique likes in a relationship; many do not want to be beaten, cheated on, disrespected nor verbally abused but given regular kimeza funds and freedom to pursue a career of their choice. It's universally agreed that women crave legal tender but money cannot buy love; what it can buy is a traditional introduction (kwanjula), wedding (or marriage ceremony), food and property. Are you looking for a soulmate or a bank ATM? That's the question. Money is the answer for everything (Ecclesiastes 10:19 taught us that) and makes life much easier than poverty but Love is simply an attraction or fondness and for us guys can be sparked off by anything including a woman's natural voice, gait or curves. Men want peace, friendship and sex - even for just 3 minutes, as simple as that: Males do not care how trendy or expensive a woman's hair, makeup and clothes are. Funny how both genders are wired! Every man has some ka-money, find where the bulk is hidden; it's all GOD's grace! Women also have money, so do they look for what they already have or desire more of it? Don't they look for love or is money more important than affection? Rich people eg Jeff Bezos unfortunately divorce too, so money ain't everything; GOD is everything and HE is LOVE. I heard someone say that a hug cannot buy anything but it can make you feel better. You do not have to own the whole world to be happy, a lover's smile or presence can make your morning plus weekend. No money, no love; no money, no honey! The love of money has been so demonised that you wonder whether rich men (as portrayed in many films) do not deserve to be loved when competing with poorer men for wives; they have legit feelings too. Also, someone can be broke now, sleep and wake up loaded. Does that suddenly make them worthy of love? If Godfrey Baguma (aka Sebabi) in Kyazanga (between Masaka and Mbarara) made more money than Brad Pitt, then does he also become more handsome? Despite his facial appearance as the Ugliest Man, he managed to get about three wives plus over eight kids; maybe money makes a man more handsome. One fairweather Kenyan lady once said that men who do not have cars should not get married. For her, she cannot use a matatu taxi. I guess she would rather cry in a Lamborghini than laugh on a boda (bike). That sounds quite ludicrous; even wise King Solomon who possessed no car (forget horses and chariots) had 700 wives and 300 concubines plus Queen Sheba though GOD did not approve of his polygamy. Muhammad who had no automobile married 19 wives. How about Jacob? Jerub-Baal aka Gideon, the one of 300 GOD-picked soldiers had many wives (Judges 8:30) and 70 sons. Adam just slept and woke up with a wife; stress-free. Kirikiri, mi aa ma oku (MAMO) [Lugbara Translate: Please, be my wife (BMW)]! The Koran (in 4:3 [Women]) labels polygamy as "Injustice" if you cannot deal equally with a maximum of "two, or three, or four" Wives and recommends "only one" Woman. Nevertheless, the mere fact that a man can choose four women is a remedy for heartbreak: If Cecilia rejects you, then chase after Hadijah or Amina! No stress. Malachi likens divorce to violence. Is money necessary in a relationship? Yes of course everyone needs money, you cannot eat kisses but rich people also get cheated on: What did Potiphar's wife want from Joseph? She was living in wealth but still wanted to cheat. An Indian Proverb says: When you see two lovers, don't hate, but throw flowers! Love cannot be based on money or luxury all the time; it becomes so fragile that coins turn into the requirement for loyal allegiance like Delilah betrayed Samson (who loved her) to the Philistines because of money after his new wife was given to another man and then killed. What therefore money has joined together, a richer man can put asunder. Hosea's wife was a prostitute. Uriah's wife Bathsheba slept with her husband's boss; King David snatched women like Bathsheba and Abigail from their husbands whom he wanted dead. The Samaritan woman had five husbands and the man she was staying with was not her hubby. Either you are a faithful partner or cheating slut, you cannot be both!
GOD provides, HIS hand is not short. Imagine every man earns minimum wage which can afford food, clothes and shelter! Is that still not enough? Generous Men's Association of Uganda (GMAU) also exists; they spend when they get. When they do not have, they continue to hustle. Women who treasure money as a requirement for love can be duped by bafere [conmen]; they put a price tag on their loyalty. Money comes and goes. Love first, then money later! I guess Pastor Aaron Mutebi from Entebbe Miracle Centre would tell you that gem of wisdom based on his own experience. Affordable bridewealth [aka Brideprice, Aje, Lobola, etc] is good enough as a foundation for marriage. In the Bible, the marriage present is about 50 (Israeli) Shekels of silver paid to the father of the woman (Exodus 22:16-17 and Deuteronomy 22:28-29) which was 14 US Dollars in 2017, enough to buy a goat in Uganda (By 2021, a goat was three to four times that price). For the Muslim Nika, gifts are not limited to specifics; you give from the heart. Culturally though in Africa, requirements can go beyond just one goat and include cows, sheep plus chicken. Do you even know how much money you will make or lose 10 years from now, GOD willing? Money is just a tool like a spanner, it may (by 21 percent) or may not improve the chances of love. Money is not the relationship but a transaction fee to seal the union between two families, that is why marriage vows declare: In sickness and poverty. A marriage union is like a club football transfer with a permanent (renewable) contract till death, an eternal Memorandum of Understanding or "romantic startup business" and must be recorded by Uganda Registration Services Bureau (URSB) so as to be recognised by the State (Government).
Here are some songs that debunk the fanciful idea that "True Love is only based on Money":
1. Nkuweki - IRYN NAMUBIRU
2. Mudguard - BAD BLACK
3. I'd Rather Be - JHENE AIKO
4. Wuuyo - A PASS
5. Sente - BEBE COOL
6. Hey Leonardo (She Likes Me For Me) - BLESSID UNION OF SOULS
7. Don't Need No Money - IMANI WILLIAMS
8. Love Don't Cost A Thing - JENNIFER LOPEZ (RJ Schoolyard Mix ft. FAT JOE)
9. Best Friend - 50 CENT ft. OLIVIA
10. Cheap Thrills - SIA FURLER ft. SEAN PAUL
11. No Air - JORDIN SPARKS ft. CHRIS BROWN
12. Reason With Me - RUDEBOY
13. Sing For Me - LYDIA JAZMINE ft. PRINCE OMAR
14. John Rambo - SHEEBAH
15. Specioza - BOBI WINE
16. Bikyuka - EDDY KENZO
17. Soka Lami - NAAVA GREY
18. The Actor - MICHAEL LEARNS TO ROCK
19. Sparks Will Fly - J. COLE ft. JHENE AIKO
20. Kasengejja - MAUREEN K
21. 21 Questions - 50 CENT
22. Byafayo - VOLTAGE MUSIC (KENT & FLOSSO)
23. Kasenyanku - RAY SIGNATURE
24. Tebiba Bingi - IRYN NAMUBIRU
25. Nothing's Gonna Change My Love - GLENN MEDEIROS
26. Amaaso (Remix) - VINKA ft. WINNIE NWAGI, FEFFE BUSSI and THE MITH
27. Over & Over Again - TAMI CHYNN
28. Stress Free - EDDY KENZO ft. FACEE OFF
29. Maaso Yawe - CHOZEN BLOOD
30. Kelekele Love - TIWA SAVAGE
31. Superstar - PINKY
32. Wonderful - JA RULE ft. ASHANTI and R. KELLY
33. Love Letter - BEBE COOL ft. IRENE NTALE
34. Mawulire - PEACE PERUTH
35. Do Without My Love - NATHAN
36. Tatizo - BILLNASS
37. Yatapita - DIAMOND PLATNUMZ
38. If I Ain't Gat You - ALICIA KEYS
39. Amelia - DOCTOR HILDERMAN
40. Ayiko - LEILA CHANDIRU
41. Zali La Mentali - PROFESSOR JAY ft. JUMA NATURE
42. Ankuba - ZAFARAN
X. All I Need To Get By - MARY J. BLIGE ft. METHOD MAN
My Dream Woman (2021 Poem)
Love should not be complicated;
Either you go left or go right.
Either you strut after the woman you fancy who goes her way,
Or follow the one who loves you,
Abanoonya,
Be My Date,
Be My Wife (BMW),
Date My Daughter,
Date My Family,
Date My Friends,
Late Date!
Take Me Out!
Take Me Home!
Will He Say Yes?
Hello Mr. Right!
Shoot Your Shot!
Ultimate Love.
Dating: No Filter!
According to the Holy Bible,
Love is the Greatest Thing on Earth!
Who got the keys to the favour? LORD GOD.
There are two types of women:
Diamonds love you more than you love them,
Pearls you love more than they love you;
A diamond pearl woman loves you as much as you love her.
I meet this woman in KLA City at Arua Park,
She's like a fire truck,
Heading to Nateete or Mulago.
Where shall we go?
She can put out the fire burning in me.
What's her name again?
Could it be Faridah, the drycleaner?
Looks as brownskinned as Sheila, the TV presenter,
Salt & Pepper in my food,
Music to my ears!
Walks ahead of me,
Talking on her Tecno smartphone;
I need to catch up,
Thank GOD it's Friday!
Her gait is very unique!
Doesn't care if I talk to other girls behind her back,
Coz she knows I cannot leave her.
Then tells me how she wants me to eat my food,
Leave no trace on my fingers.
Her thighs are round like raw cassava from Arua or Sheebah the Diva,
She's a Queen Herself,
Dances like Cindy too.
I can list 23 things I adore about her.
Why wear a wig of very expensive artificial hair,
Yet her face is naturally as beautiful as a Filipino?
She looks nice in a dark blue calf-high skirt and purple top.
This woman is the rose in my room.
Will we celebrate the Golden Jubilee of our friendship like the M7s?
Maybe not,
But loving her is like winning a 50 inch TV in a wheel-rolling draw,
No stealing!
Sweet like fene,
I do not care if she is Lutheran or Atheist,
Noone has seen GOD.
We just believe what seems right and holy.
All we need is love and trust.
We are on the same page of happiness;
JESUS Christ, I will still pray for her soul at any stage.
I'm in the Gallery Department,
Till death do us from Earth depart!
Zoom!
I'm her groom.
Love Is A Number (Lyrics on Tuesday 21st June 2022)
She don't want no scrub, but I don't really care,
I'm an earlyman, I don't really swear.
Act like you want to!
I can walk the road to riches barefoot, and still buy pairs.
Let's take a walk to remember, Footsubishi!
I can't afford a RAV4,
But I can afford love for,
Only you.
Money can't buy love,
Because it's just a number.
Pick yours and let me pick mine, wama,
Like Betty Mpologoma!
Desert Dates (2024)
Can love be arranged by a third party?
Let's chat like bots, adisi!
Tell me about yourself;
I'll tell you my stories.
Loneliness is dry like the Sahara Desert,
But love is also a mirage.
You must dig an oasis where you are.
Alternatively, you may transport H2O from a distant source,
Through a pipe or tanker.
Laughter is the shortest distance between friends.
Oku invites me for lunch:
If she's filled, then am full too.
Will we have a 2nd date and another after another?
Mud On The FloorThe old and new or younger keep arguing whether I will get married.
Truth is,
I tried very hard but messed up,
Several times,
Like footprints on a tilefloor after walking outdoors on a rainy day.
My campus crush cleaned the mud on the floor
When she apologised for treating me like a bitch.
However, I need to wash my feet.
© Aleman
