Sister, the heat is too much
Let us sleep on the floor,
And let us feel and hear
The sighs of our ancestors underneath
Mama, will you pray for our soul?
That this breath I breathe won’t Leave and go,
And for clean water
To drown in my throat.
Papa, these mosquitoes are evil o
And I’m weary of slapping myself –
That used to be your job
Doesn’t death know your children miss you?
And when will we have yam,
The palm oil is tired
Of sitting at the bottom
Of the bottle, and my mind.