We met in the House of God for sure
With good look, soft touch and sweet tongues
With big Bibles, prayer books and selfish generosity
With Church Hymnals, angelic voices and gentle steps
My godmother weaned me from my parents
With persuasion, charity and lofty promises
My godmother lured me to her home
Hastily, my godmother had me enrolled in her school.

In moral, my godmother was a wonder
Diligently, my godmother compelled me to learn her crafts
Craftily, my godmother pressed me to practise her trade
Day and night my godmother fed me for real
Within my first two fortnights in my godmother’s school
My godmother confined me in her quick moral and brain-washing room
Every 22nd hour of each day, my godmother entertained me
My godmother fed me with erotic diet, films in the nude

Each of which lasted till the 24th hour of the day
After which my godmother would tiptoe back into my room
To clear the dining table, the nudity, the strange videos
Switch off the light and turn off the TV in my room
Then, she would ask me to sleep because it was late
I remained in the dark but the mental diet with which she fed me:
The men and the women, the boys and the girls,
The Blacks and the Whites, the giants and the dwarfs

All in the nude, day or night, at the beach, in bed, on mat, in garden parks
Esh! The fumbling and the horse races, the dogs and the bitches
They all began to replay in my mental TV till dawn
More vivid than I watched on the TV screen till late
I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t pray, I couldn’t sing, I couldn’t think
My sleep took to flight for fear of the dish my godmother served,
The school and the crafts into which my godmother had me enrolled
And I just had to watch my mental screen all the nights long.

After the fortnight my godmother graduated me, you know
My godmother promoted me to her reception room
To receive her four, five guests of male folks everyday
Day and night they came the more, and so for over half a decade
The men paid me into her account all the same you know
People called her Godmother, Nice mother, Generous mother
And so I saw at the first she was, and truly she was.
Now, won’t you give a warm handshake to my godmother

My godmother deflowered me, invaded and eroded my holy Jerusalem
As I received her men, her clients in their numbers and kinds
Day and night I received them all, as they all came:
The young, the old, the giants, the dwarfs, the reduced, the leprous
As long as the men accepted to pay me into her account
They did dive and swim in my swimming pool as long as they had strength
Lo! I wasn’t alone; she was the godmother of a dozen damsels
Oh! The pains and the tears, the tortures and the agony- I grew listless.

My godmother offered money and gifts to my parents every Sunday
My godmother gave alms and shared money generously and cleverly
My godmother paid her church contributions faithfully and overtly
My godmother was the mother of consolations to the core,
Helping the poor and the helpless parishioners for her own ends
They called her Godmother, Godmother, Godmother, everywhere.
Sorry, who won’t give us the name we deserve in the daylight?
My heart fainted, I got withered, my beauty faded as they eroded my womanhood.

Only by divine intervention was I set loose of her snares
Yet, today I hear my darling laughter has need of a godmother
And I call to memory all my all night long tears of agony and grief
I remember my woes upon woes, my fainting and failing in health
I remember my broken souls and pools of blood and tears and sorrows
In the house of my godmother, good mother, real mother
With the big Bibles, the regular church attendance, the offertory
The sanctimony, the angelic voice, the sheep clothing… I fear.

Now, with my limited resources and exposures I’m resolved:
And we can be resolved also for the sanity of our youths world
I am resolved to chip in my own little contribution
To nation-building and moral rectitude for our national pride
By building our kids, our individual families to possess virtues,
Sound education, to enhance productive thinking and creativity,
To sow good seed that we will be happy to reap at harvest time
First, for the glory of God, next and all, for the benefit of mankind.

With the fear of God and for fear of history repeating itself
I fear to trust the care of my kids into any hand, any day, anytime, anywhere
And I fear… I fear to think we met in the house of God
Well, my homage to the Good Samaritan in the same Place
Though now, some chilly arms of fears and grief, the pangs of death
Still grip my soul as I call to memory my historic ordeal
From the hands of she who came to us as the Good Samaritan
Aren’t we God’s saints by our magnanimity and angelic apparels only?

For sure, my godmother would reign in the power of her affluence
But who will not fear the timeliness and timelessness of retribution,
That must step in on time to pay everyone according to their deeds?
Retribution had patience until my godmother amassed her wealth
Like a watchful and careful cat awaiting a cunning rat,
Retribution skipped up swiftly and pounded down heavily on my godmother
In the persons of armed men, merciless band of heartless wolves.
Just at the peak of my godmother’s glorious graceless acquisitions.

My godmother fell amongst deadly thorns, men of the underworld
Merciless armed hawks and vultures ready to shed blood and devour flesh
Who all robbed my godmother of all her achievements of long years:
Her labour, her jewellery, her beauty, her fame, her health, her life.
They apprehended and bound my godmother face and hands
My godmother called to memory all her mixed drama in the House of God
As the beasts did dive into and swim too in her own swimming pool
Abused and tortured, my godmother tearfully gave up the ghost

Before vanishing into oblivion my godmother wept out her lungs
Oh! Had I known, had I known, now is my sunset at noonday.
I have lived to sow the seed I’m now unhappy to reap
Seed I must harvest, a bitter pill for me to swallow
My secret deeds are now become a public scandal
Though so bitter a pill for me, still I must swallow it alone
My secret deeds have hunted me badly at the market square
Proving, whatever we give to life the same shall we get in return.

It’s sowing and reaping, the Golden Rule that knows no bounds
The Rule that we break well and break our necks
Against the Law we are crushed whole, annihilated.
Breaking it is chasing the wind and wallowing in mud.
Oh! My life, now melting away like candle, vanishing into perpetual darkness
My name, my fame my labour, my wealth- vanity upon vanity
I lived to chase the wind and it pains me to unveil my real identity
Something I must do-a ghost mother was I-to appease death.

Has money turned mankind heartless against mankind?
Listen to the call of conscience to the cry of the helpless kids.
Were we to listen to the ceaseless music of our sleepless conscience
How healthy would our community and nation-builders be?
No amount of wealth is worth life, the dignity of mankind
A clarion call to preserve our offspring, our walking sticks at old age
None must play the ghost helpers over our kids for money
Think well! Repercussion, the dangling sword and hammer of retribution.