From Sambisa With Love Poem by Adeosun Olamide

Resort mine that be medic in time
If but listen your words, I be wife now'
In Alhajis mansion, nursing kids
It is self ‘pon forth misfortune
And but wish could rewind times hand
If could, would follow words that I be Alhajis sixth wife

This one of regret when in night dost duty wife
In middle night, rest lack for perform intercourse
Herein of sanctity devoid and sullied pride
Skins pale and cheeks puny yet less be to weakened legs
To bathe openly in view unending gaze theirs
Unclothed in presence men only to be robed in rags
We perform creation purpose' they say as Allah accord

Won to worn inure to pain our monthly dues
Drug none, nurse none, none care
To slake, quench every there bodily needs
And well, Allah to hear' our duties give

Wait! When shall come linger thoughts
When years past, hairs gray and cold froze blood?
When sun seep water all in us?
When shall find?
After ruwa (Rain) thud our heads to insanity?
Or is it corpse ours shall seek?

Soon shall come' says Moriama
Allah our side, aid, government to succor
But moon pass, another appear, third follow
Still absent glance' now bids'
When shall you come?
When shall you
When shall
When?
Moriama cold be not long, before give swell, odor!
With her, hopes ours to death too

Suleiman' orphan beggar is here
Him that know as soft' with gun
He gives favor in bringing this your ears
In exchange intercourse, his old long dream

Mahaifiyarsa' (Mother) Suleiman say passed on
Oh father, bear cold grief and feelings mine
Said died' with my name her lips
Oh father, can bear daughters cold grief and feelings
And dwell not in thought her absence nor mine
But dwell in memories of us,
That be why, Mahaifiyarsa' beseeched that you espouse another
Now enjoy your cold and dwell not in thought darkness
Nor entrapped in concern my discomfort
For truly I am strong' but Moriama that pass' stronger than I

Wonder talk, gist for woman become
Return Alhaji the Rubu Dinar (Dowry)
And withdraw promise
For his shall be neither my third nor twentieth

So, on with life go, unveiling cloak grief
Merry, drink, have new daughters to fill your purse
And know truly my heart is cold, and my feelings lost
For I been hone by mud, mire and neglect