By Partoz Kikosi

If I was Obado 

I would tell everyone that I loved her,

Because I did.

I would tell people of the guilt in my heart

for the vice I engaged with lust

I would cry like a baby,

Because my wife, the mother of my babies

Wouldn’t look at me twice

And in the public eye she is openly uneasy on my side.

 

If I was Obado,

I would hide and never be exposed,

To the glaring eyes of all.

I would wish that it was born,

And the grueling media was never involved.

Tenders would be theirs to trot,

While in the suburbs of course.

 

If I was Obado,

I would let them cast stones,

Even if my whole family is torn,

For the sake of Sharon’s soul.

I wish they could see, that I hate she is gone.

And my gain is less from the spoil.

 

If I was Obado,

I would approach the wise and old,

In the villages of my home,

To cleanse my own for dining in my pot.

If I was Obado,

Now that its known,

I would wish the ground opens so I would go,

Go to be with them both,

For I can’t take the scorn.

 

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