A wife's neck saved
‘Beyond the all-too-familiar message of violence against women, Amadi's epigram-clad poem is like the very best straight out of a Holy Book’- Akwasi Aidoo
Ijeoma's mind, a course pounds,
mercilessly, fears, pains, rushes.
Her every emotion, in a shambles,
hardly, to a prying eye, shows;
intimacy, a quality, she dreads!
Anger, on her face, a route plies,
a black eye, unjustly inflicted, cries,
A hope, by courage planted, thrives
a childless mom often a party gives
a farmer true, tasty dishes, rustles.
Her explanations, sorrow-drenched,
with charming wit, slowly executed
ears biased, at last, out, bowled.
Yet, in lust, sat elders, sullen-faced
dying, an innocent person, to bleed!
Asked her, at last, an elder, Pa Sid,
by his own self-restraint, subdued:
"Where's hunter, your husband?"
"Of where, I know nothing, I plead".
"Liar, murderer," yelled Bro. O-Zed.
Sinewy sticks, thorny, on her rallied
elders, a nose innocent, bloodied.
Hovered vultures, a trio unfancied;
often in meat, their breaks buried,
need now, for supper, be worried
Alas, from Evil Forest, dreaded,
Nnodi's return, hardly expected,
old liars, his darling's foes, dazed,
in anonymity, disperse, shammed;
a good wife's neck, in time, saved!
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