She was fair and black at heart
A savage Shylock,
Kill your debtor and leave a bad debt?
She came and sat by the façade
Gave no one any salutation.
Brought her mat
And her melon and milled
And messed our frontage;
Stretched her pudgy legs
So no one passed in or out
Of our dear hut.
And my dad skilled in managing them
Asked us to chase a rooster
And mama to boil a tuber of yam
Soon a creditor's banquet
Was done in the state house of debtors.
The mill stopped to mill
And the mouth to curse
So food can go
Another negotiation, a new date to pay
All dad borrowed
To send us to school.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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