Tuesday, 14 October 2014

The Widow by FlorenceAwino
We stand gingerly on the bed of the Nile taking great care not to fall inside the yawning cracks that crisscross the surface. We stare in awe towards the middle of the great waters but we take care not to approach too closely. Nobody knows what this means, not even Oholah; the government’s super computer. She cannot decipher what on earth this is. What we know is that we need to avoid it. Move to a faraway place, and never come back.

In the middle of the Nile, there is an angry green stem of a plant emitting deep guttural sounds. The stem has tentacles, which sway angrily. The dancing tentacles will pick up anything that comes too close and eat it. Before they eat you, for they eat with abandon and no discrimination, the plant will infuse a toxic poison into your system and you will stop struggling, paralyzed. And these tentacles will slowly tear your flesh and take turns feeding the queen of the plants until you are no more. Long gone are the mighty waters and in its place stand the most villain plant monster ever seen in the whole universe.

This rogue monster is the creation of man for in the last many, many years, the hedonist inhabitants of the former planet, kept feeding the waters with poisons and toxics from their lives. They have big bowels and extremely constipated rectums, these people! And then they called their neighbors to join their misdemeanors. We have more than enough, they said, come with us! And they pissed and dunked into the waters till the sea villain arose angrily from its abode and had their lives for dinner.

The remnants are looking for a land of solace, for waters without angry man-eating plants. They are the last of their lineage and they seek to keep their bloodline alive but it is the same everywhere. All the seas have angry fishes and seaweeds, the rivers have withdrawn their trickle, for they cower under the burning rage of the great sea monsters. All these rivers, they are no more. They are fed up!

The inhabitants of these places have feet that look like giant tree leaves. Their heads are four times the size of their ancestors’ craniums. They know so because they remember the days of yonder, from the films that are constantly shown. Each street is lined up with giant plasma screens, showcasing the crisp images of happier years at the peak of their hedonistic tendencies, of whoring with their charming lovers, from the east to west.

They even sought lovers from far yonder north, and to prove their virility they found a lover down south! And their lovers charmed away their flimsy lingerie and delighted at the nakedness. As if whoring the fruits of their youth wasn’t enough, they sent them away with expensive gifts. Plentiful precious metals brought in at dusk by the weary servant who will be stopped at the gate by the aggressive sentries that stand guard.

He is too smelly to get in. Explore our nakedness and also explore our land. I see your land hungry for a climax! They leered, and then they drilled their shafts into the virgin land. It squirted, and they harvested it in huge pipes. More! More! They cried.

And they enjoyed the prostitute play to their fill, till it no longer gave them any pleasure. Which man is loyal to a whore? Away they went and what the whoring peoples was left with was just flimsy clothing that was not enough to hide their shame from their young ones! They now walk with their heads constantly bowed and their necks have started growing downwards. Even their own people want nothing to do with them and their elite sons have fled the embarrassment. Such despair!

Africa is now a mourning widow, breasts sagging and her mighty ass has fallen! Her lovers now scorn her nakedness for they were just there to plunder her plenty and they have turned stone deaf to her anguished cries. Her favorite sons are gone to enjoy the loot with her enemies.

She had kept quiet while her sons stirred trouble among her people. Her sons castrated 1565 able men and when 329 of them died, they castrated even more. They bragged that the libido of their mother’s lovers would keep her content and compliant to the needs of her loins. They sowed seeds of discord all over the land and countless men became unwilling eunuchs. Lost manhood littered the whole land as the daughters of the land were sold into whore-hood elsewhere. The whole generation is cursed because of a promiscuous mother.

Shame unites her people; they no longer know race or creed. Their borders no longer matter and the hungry, deformed and diseased inhabitants roam freely. All they own is the musty air. Sustain us, let us breath. Their gods are gone, for they too saw her nakedness and were not pleased. Away they turned their heads in disgust, closed their eyes to her debauchery and blocked their ears lest they too got defiled by her sinful moans of pleasure. Let her now bear the fruits of her unfaithfulness. They nod sagely.

African people are resilient. They still have hope in their defiled land. They wait for salvation. The coming of Christ is upon them.




No comments:

Post a Comment