Give it me
A spot I have prepared for it.
Maybe a space would do.
Ask I shan’t, if there is no desire for it.
Listen, I have spent years;
Like the village palm wine tapper who awaits his palm tree to quench his thirst with its wine.
Preparing my barn and fields for it.
The stubborn weeds have been pulled out.
For other expected tares.
What you give others I want not.
Give me something special and rare.
A little something you dare not share with others.
I won’t reject it like others, ‘Remi’.
Give it ‘Remilekun’, even though it’s sour.
I have burnt my tongue with hot ‘ogi’
From ‘iya tanimola’, the industrious marketer of breakfast.
For I can bear the bitter taste, like my father taught me to eat the kolanut without wincing.
Fear not to give it me, I won’t spit it out ‘Remi’.
Tell it to me ‘Remilekun mi’.
Tell me the truth.
