MARATHONIC PROCREATION

Maa Yaa! Come and listen!

I went looking for snails

Then I saw Oforiwaa strapping her newborn,

I also saw her holding two of her youngs

Then I asked how she was doing,

She told me ” Who can be finer than me?

Me who gives birth to the strength of the nation

This whole  town knows about my fertility

You should see how pampered I am

Mother of three sets of male twins

And five others in twelve years…”

She kept ranting on as her children cry for food

I had to give them some of my coins,

I, who have but only one, in ten years

I, who knows her words were circumlocuting

In the ink of my script

Their clothes were like rags

Some had stomachs like drums yet cried of hunger.

Maa, when did unreasonable procreation become

A marathon needing standing ovations

On lands where farming have fled to God knows where?

See expansion, in our poor national mansion

See poverty, walking on lean legs

Prostituting in homes like hers,

Apiiiii, apuuuu, apaaaaa!

I will rather remain the hen with just a chick

Than envy such rot!

Say I’m a gossip, I don’t care!

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c)  2015