Sango and I dipped starch in Oghwevwri
The night they sang of Omotughele’s beauty
On that day, my Ugboma parted with Erhi
Ovigueraye! Finding ‘Motughele was my duty

I bear a penis but I’m no ordinary man
I do not squeeze my juice into every bowl
Ask, many hearts litter my trail. Woman
Say my name, the wind, will birth no howl

I’ve pleased the nipples of many kegs
Feel my hairy jaw, I am no little child
Tougher bristles rest between my legs
And many a laps will say they are mild

Yes, I am he of that travelled name
Great iroko that that was never rooted
I weeded ridges where many went lame
And stood guard to see the yams rooted

When leaves rustle at dusk, hear
The soft song on their flapping lips
It marks time with the imagined spear
Prodding the wetness of restless hips

So, I come to you in total nothingness
A mere twig, unfit for your teeth-picking
I denied Oya to claim you my Princess
Sacrificed all that I was for this asking:

Let me lose all, Ovieya, to be with you
Make me your Ovie! ‘Motughele, please do!

Written by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson

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