My Elfin Chuchu
How local you sound
So I gave you a nickname
Bless your sweetness
How It accents your small stature
Tall and handsome Peter
You are imbibed with modesty
Shall I keep you hidden?
No one has monopoly of you
Most gracious of them all
Sweet Broken
Appearing broken indeed
Rough around the edges
Honeyed to your depths
Most generous of them all
My wild Hindi
As dandy as an Indian dancer
Your pointed nose sneers at the rest
Your taste it cannot be mimicked
Exotic, evergreen, unrefined
Aye, mere men my heart
Can trust never
Not you my fair my lovers
My belly remains in awe of you
Love so whimsical, Lo! so unrequited
There is a riddle in my language that goes, “the white man left and the village quieted down” and the answer is Mango. (Somewhere in middle belt Nigeria.)
The period when mangoes are in season is a very colorful one, both in the neighborhoods with their trees displaying red, green and yellow spots and the boisterous market squares.
You see, one man may have a mango tree in his house but he would still go to the market because there are usually about 8–10 varieties of mangoes all in season. You’ve got to go out cause the season is once a year so if you miss it, you get nothing till next year. Mangoes are currently in season and I’m loving it.
