The mother’s daughter; stubborn, not so wise?
The father’s girl; eager to please, a distance denied
The sister dear; gossiping close
Secrets hanging like ripe mangoes
Ready to fall
The mother? Anxious and fast,
brown hot banana leaves stinging your hands
Wafting smells to the waiting many
“My dear, come and I tell you
What the supervisor said about your appraisal.”
In taxis perched, back to driver, on tiny extra seat.
Hot or broke?
Are you born out of wedlock or born again?
Sheep of the pastor’s flock
Tithing, giving and soon eating grass?
The Radio-Reality fan?
Listening to auditory unwinding horror
Gonna call that number?
The quintessential African woman?
Short dreads, beeswax royal
Anointing your head,
A kitenge of mixed colors adorning your waist
Ready for funeral or party