Fadeke, ripe and edible,
Becomes a wifely ware
Displayed in the market of womanhood
Mother knows that prime is only
A preservative of beauty with an expiry date,
So she will play the shrewd market seller
Wanting a good bargain from any worthy buyer
Whose looks speak the language of fortune
Duduyemi, a photocopy of the raven’s skin,
Thinking himself alluring enough for every magnet,
First emerges from the mist of a befuddled day
As he struts towards Mother’s stall,
His desirous eyes and watering mouth
Hurled in the direction of the lone fruit
A sneer is the rejection slip handed him—
For, as Mother snaps in response,
He wears a pauper-stench
Also shows Mohammed, a statue in flowing dashiki,
Tabling an agreeable price, but his words
Are capsules of pride too bitter
For Mother’s ears to swallow
Then as fledgling night unfolds from hibernation
Mother inhales more worry, relaxing into compromise
As she pushes Fadeke into uncanny hands
Hoping late Father might just be a tuber underground
Whose tendrils are blessings reaching out
To this fortuitous union

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