And I hear the child cry
A cry of sadness
A cry of sorrow
A cry of fear
At the sight of the doctor’s scissors
At the stench of the concoction in mummy’s oesophagus
‘let me live mother! Don’t flush me away I beg of you’
The child continue to lament
Isn’t you that invited me?
Why are you sending me back in such a cruel manner?
What if I am a blessing to you and the world?
What if I am meant to be your saviour?
Isn’t enough crime that you invited me at the wrong time?
By doing it with the wrong person
Now you want to kill me
Do I deserve this cruelty?
You think of the shame I may bring
And refused to think of the pain of the massacre
The pain of the acidic liquor taking my breath slowly
Or the angry scissors of the butcher-doctor cutting me through
But what if something go wrong?
What if the butcher-doctor makes a mistake?
What if the concoction go a wrong track?
And you end up killing me and yourself
What will you tell God?
That you coupled fornication with murder?
Have a rethink mother
And let me live.
by Patience Ukamaka