The years of showers in the rain on perforated panties still lingers;
Of 2 Naira hooks cast in the flood, hoping for a big catch;
The ones of innocent dances among the audience of refined masquerades;
Not the rascals of this age adorned in ragamuffin's masks lying on the gods;

The years we earned 5 Naira daily for our meals, and no scintilla of worry in the air;
2 Naira bread, 2 Naira beans, and the last Naira as my daily tax to the bully next street;
Oh, I miss the year my "8" wasn't perfect, and I had to settle for two zeroes-one being a burden on the one beneath;

I miss the years I approached my sisters for a soft loan;
Seeking the fund to pay the bully whose toy I fell on and shattered;
By my collar, he had held me: "pay my 30 Naira tomorrow, else you die", he barked;
And their collective clay bank, sisters broke, to grant their dear brother a loan without collateral;

I set off Henry's debt, and I had some peace;
But 12 days lapsed, and my sisters came asking: "you said 10 days, you debtor. Pay your debt, lest Papa hears;
20 days passed, and I could only pay 3 Naira, the bully next street was still collecting tax, hence, I couldn't save;

One night after dinner, I was arraigned by my sisters;
Father was the judge, and my mother, the jury;
The complainant read my charge, and how I obtained a loan of 30 Naira which was not serviced;
I stood still in my faded Kampala shorts awaiting my verdict;
Beads of sweats formed on my forehead and strolled down my neck;
"Onigbese", my mother said to taunt me;
I always had a defence, but I was short of one this day;

"...here is my judgment", Papa said;
"You don't grant a loan to a man who has no source of income or collateral. This man is less than 10 and unemployed. David is hereby discharged and acquitted;
But mama, the jury wasn't happy with the verdict;
"Your verdict is unfair, leave the debtor, dear daughters. I will compensate you", mama said;

Two decades later, I'm left with carcasses of memories...
And as I took the wig and gown and bowed before the benchers, the poet in me was laid to rest, for law does not date a man committed to another.

October 5, 2018. 9:30 PM.

Hidentity:

And as I took the wig and gown and bowed before the benchers, the poet in me was laid to rest, for law does not date a man committed to another.

Bar man: What is your brand?
Me: Give me a bottle of Hidentity.

Teacher: Who is Hidentity?
Me: Hidentity is an African.

Mokenano check your email

Cacawa2:
Mokenano check your email

I don't understand why this has to be on my post.

Hidentity:

I don't understand why this has to be on my post.

calm down babyboy

Cacawa2:
calm down babyboy

I see