By Charity nitah Imbayago
With my annoying voice of a cicada,
I killed her, the only family member I had left.
Nagging and inconsiderate, I was.
Demanding for a city lifestyle in the village,
woke her up to make peanut butter,
for me in the middle of the night.
Shout at her,
when it wasn’t so fine like
that of nuts grinded by a machine.
Send her on a forest search,
I knew she was too old to bear a farm.
But I still demanded for pumpkin porridge.
She too had lost her child, in the
same accident I became an orphan.
Still I took it out on her.
I knew she was out in the dark,
in a field hunt for pumpkins
but I created a weapon by the door.
Set a hoe, to snatch off the head of anyone,
anyone who tries to get in.
I heard her call out my name as she approached.
I heard her reach for the door handle
but I didn’t move or warn her.
Now her head is lying 3 metres away from her body.
I killed her!
The only family I had left.
The streets or jail cell, I will soon call my home.