By Chioma Ibegbunam

The man whose hands traveled down the spine of my back

Perfectly relieving aches and causing my stiffness to shake awake

Evoking spirits I never thought dwelt in me,

Was that your plan to make me weak?

His rough palm planted perfectly on already gone-wet-land

A rude ride I must say, but too soft, as the strong-willed maiden moaned with eyes shut

Who do I blame?

What is this that I knew not would drive me insane?

For red were my eyes in hot pleasure and legs apart to every motion his hands gestured

Then like thunder striking my soul,

Something hits hard the tightened gates, digging down a way never trod

Alas! It opens!

Milk mixed with thick red wine

Sweet comfort yet so painful

My hands locked tight on raffia mat

My teeth meeting my lips as I tasted the salt of my tears

Silent words of sweet misery were all I softly said.


The opposite has met you this time!

The child whose heart is stronger than the Olumo Rock,

Look how soft your footsteps now paint the soil

Look how weak your giant tail of pride now sweeps the market square

For of all men, you let a Vagabond eat you bare.

Shame! Shame!

I bite my fingers in shame

This crown mocks me!

Get off my head and leave me to sing songs sang in times when lions fed on grass

These beads are useless!

Get it off me!

Let me dance to the beat that will strip royalty off my feet


The one who used words that loosened nuts.

You did the unusual with your smile

And made me think freedom was laughing at your jokes

That it wasn’t so bad to walk on grass and count stars with both our eyes fixed up,

Then slowly, like finding fresh water in the desert,

Our eyes got fixed unto each other in fresh excitement

Where was fear?

Why didn’t doubts grip me?

My senses lost in the fake reality of a perfect union

My dreams had stories of all we could become,

Each morning,

I looked at the sun smiling like a Cinderella ready for another secret time with you.

You played my strings well and like a cut-down tree, for you, in love, I gladly fell.


So I am the little one for your plan

Your hunger for revenge made you fry me on your deceitful pan

Am I not ready yet?

Does your heart not rejoice in the belly you have greatly fed?

Is your Father resting in peace now?

Is your Father happy that the woman he loved so much,

Whom the king married and bore a child who now carries a child, is from his seed?


You have destroyed love for anger

You have crushed sweet smelling roses for your Dead Father!

You have killed my soul and buried your rubbish in me to grow out of Hate.

All for your evil quest

All for you to laugh and beat your chest

All for your one time “Ife mi” ADETIBA to suffer jest.

All to quench wicked thirst.


Choima Ibegbunam is a  Final year student from the University of Portharcourt

who enjoys writing short stories and poems.

One thought on “ADETIBA

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