Ihuoma
Ihuoma, you should have walked away
when Elechi Amadi started creating you from the mystery
of African words, long before books mattered,
because the songs were enough.
Elechi Amadi, beguiling and masculine,
gave you the blessing and the curse of the gap in your
teeth
and named you beautiful.
He created you even before you knew
the meaning behind a full moon and harvest,
when your parents were feasting with the villagers at
your birth.
You should have walked away.
Instead, you looked in the mirror
and swayed your hips
until your beads rattled against your glistening skin.
Instead of walking away
like the darkness when it meets the sun,
like hunger when it meets a yam feast,
you let Elechi crown you with chapter
upon chapter of his novel.
And now, mother of patriarchy,
it is not your natural charm
nor discerning eyes that matter
not even your strong hands
that can carry a saucepan of boiling porridge,
nor your ears that can hear a man whispering into your
daughter’s ears.
It is the gap in your teeth,
the African woman’s jewel and Judas.
Note: Ihuoma is the protagonist
in the novel, The Concubine, written
by Elechi Amadi. In the novel, Ihuoma is profound for her charm, her ravishing
looks and the fact that no mortal man is able to marry her.
Poem by Beverle N Nsengiunva
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