My Wife

PHOTO: huffingpost

My wife sleeps facing the wall

Snoring louder than a locomotive,

She doesn’t see bendera ya KANU ikipepea full mast

Yet go to complain to her Chama friends

She hasn’t seen my erection for ages,

That I am useless in bed;

She can’t get it into her head

The local pub maid’s over-ploughed ‘tighter’ squeeze

Seems to be my solace.

It matters not the barmaid is too charitable with her goodies,

That she’s a United Nations Ambassador of Sexcapades

To us sex-starved husbands.

My wife sleeps dressed for church,

Sings ‘bwana si muweza’ in her sleep

Only to wake up and weep

I no longer love her as deep.

My wife cringes at my touch

Says I smell of the cheap perfume she bought for mboch

She can’t believe ‘nikulacho ki nyumbani mwake’

Why am I doing this to her, she wonders.

The rift between my wife and me is wider

And deeper than how I used to get into her

Those days when love was the language our bodies spoke;

My lust for (short) skirts she doesn’t wear is to blame,

Says my wife who put doa kwa ndoa yetu

When she stopped caring about haki yetu.