Here Is A Getrude Sneeze Number Three Poem by Sarah Mkhonza

My Aunt has done it again for if you say
Our clan is under petticoat government
You have not started speaking about the
Clan for she runs it like a choir as if
She is the conductor.

If you would think of the disciples you would
Not be wrong in guessing she is the twelfth
For her eleven brothers have to listen to
The final part of how the money my grandfather
Left will be distributed.

She has to get the lion's share of course
And the eleven disciples of Judas who has now
Become the Lord himself have to listen to how
The home will be run. The money has to be
Controlled by my father for he is educated and
Will 'not be confused by numbers the way Uncle
Mark the fisherman will.'

Poor Mark, I saw him wink and turn grey with anger
For his dark complexion gave him away as his aversion
To being debased at themoney tit-tat gave him away.
He wiggled his way out of being put on the spot
By begging to go to the small room in order to avoid
Another shouting match.

When he returned Aunt Getrude was looking at his chair
And nodding that the truth will set him and her as free
As birds for they will just have to do with a tenth of
What my grandfather left and leave the rest to the one who
Went to school for they ran away at recess time and should
Just do with a little.

My mother, for the first time, asked what happened to the
Will and Aunt Getrude told them it went the way of her
Marriage certificate which she tore in front of the judge
On entry into the court room after telling everyone present
That her marriage to Joseph was over.

Everybody laughed for they remembered very well the incident
On how her divorce ended for she said she could swear that
If it was about having children Joseph had to tell the
Clan that they had brought him to our house because
One, as she said her little finger crossed with he
Forefinger, the marriage had not yielded anything for
Her bride price was little. Two, on a cross on her ring
Finger, she swears she should have sued Joseph for depriving
Her of her conjugal rights for there was no consumassion of the
marriage.

Poor Joseph, like the biblical figure and Portifar's wife
Could not answer for himself for the loud speaker that
Is my aunt was on, throwing everything in the air, when
We all know that there was no way she could leave the
Clan and marry a living human being unless a saint came
Down from heaven and did the deed.

My brothers looked at him and told him that the marriage was
As over as of the day when the clock strikes twelve for there
Is no way it can be brought back to where it once was for
'We all know this firebrand, ' said my eldest uncle looking at
My Aunt's in-laws.

They were brave to face us knowing that my aunt who
Shoots off the heap would tell them off, in whatever
Way for when her father-in-law spoke she told him
To mind his words for this is not speech about the
Maize that he grows on his farm on the Bulunga
Mountains. This is talk with the children of Isaac.

The two were at each other with words and I saw Joseph
Look down and then wave at his father to cut it out for
It was time to go. My uncle summed it up and thanked the
Clan for opening their doors and told Joseph's people
That the relationship had not grown in the hearts of
The two, but died for fires that are not kindled die. This
Was a truth they had to live with, and before they said
Goodbye my aunt was on her way to her hut. We knew
That the real reason was she would never marry and leave
The eleven disciples of Judas alone, for that is what the
clan has become now that my grandmother and father are gone
Now that she has had her say in the money we live to see how the saga will continue with Judas in control.