He says he will wear no “fugu”
He will never drape himself in “Mmarintama”
Neither will he wear “Ahenemma”
He will always look smart in alien shirts and trousers
And his well polished shoes will command the respect of all
He emphatically said these wrappings are fetish
The drapings of his fathers and forefathers
She also concurs, siding with his thoughts.
She says she will never wear “kaba”
She will never wear “slit”
She will never wear any beads
She will look good in pretty dresses,
Jeans and sexy tops
That the “colo” things her mother’s mothers wore is beneath her status
Now is the new dawn
When the eternal stiffness lays his hands on her man
Maame Sexy cries streams of blood
Looking for the ‘colo’ women and fetish men
To bid the high classed mud farewell into the soil
Customs are customs she says now
But banishing those customs from your land of thoughts must have its consequences.
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014.
(Picture by allthingsquilty.blogspot.com)