SUBSCRIBED?

    No spam from us, pinky swear.

    Join 53,023 other subscribers.

    Nyalano picks at her food like her tongue is sore
    Avoids my face like I’m an ogre’s descendant
    Rations her words like they are endangered
    Okello! Leave me alone.”
    Don’t touch my breast, you think it doesn’t hurt?
    I’ll report you to my mother.
    Her protest is unconvincing like lies from that child with sugar on the chin
    I cup her face and look into her eyes –clear like the full moon
    I stroke her cheeks and admire her lips – full and soft like mangoes from Koc
    “Nyalano, If only I could swallow you,
    Keep you away from the claws of ill-mannered men!”
    “Lajok!” she blubbers
    My future wife just called me a night dancer.
    My people! Save your son before he drinks from
    a calabash of poisoned beauty!

     

    © Harriet Anena (pictured above)
    Author: Nation in Labour Twitter: @ahpetite | Facebook: Harriet Anena

     

     

    Night Dancer via @theMagunga
    0 0 vote
    Article Rating
    Subscribe
    Notify of
    guest
    1 Comment
    Oldest
    Newest Most Voted
    Inline Feedbacks
    View all comments
    Tony Kakai

    hahaha,
    this is pretty good.

    55 Shares 650 views
    55 Shares
    Share via
    Copy link
    %d bloggers like this: