SLAVE-PRICE

I am the new slave of the century

And silence is my voice

My lips have been sealed with selotep of fear

And only my kind see my heavy chains

So why should I raise alarm?

I was present when he handed over those cowries clothed in costumes of a bride-price

And my smiles hindered my eyes from seeing the exchange rates attached to those naira notes

The terms and conditions applied the very first day we smiled against each other

And those hidden charges took the center stage the very night he took me home

So why should why I speak when he molests me?

Why should I scream when he threatens to deport me?

When he makes me his dictionary of curses

I am like a ram taken up to the altar for slaughter

I certainly have no say in the hands of my Master

I was a mere lucky hibiscus he bought from a garden of other beautiful morning roses

And my sweetening shall die once my petals wither

So that ultimately gives him the chance of plucking another

They call my slavery tradition

But they fail to see spiritual implications behind this action

I bear his name same as I bear his offspring

Forsaking my rights, dreams, family and aspirations in the guise of matrimony

And my essence are relegated to the kitchen and rooms I myself have no idea of

And I thought he was supposed to leave home not vice-versa

So little wonder why my efforts are more or less a basket of draining water