The pity party

The dead pity the aimless, meaningless toil of the living

Appalled at the fickleness of it all, This living…

The living weep for the dead, cry at their leaving

‘Oku n sunkun oku, akawo leri n sunkun ara won’

The old pity the young, at their toil, reminiscing

In the days of old it wasn’t easy, even now it isn’t easy

The rich pity the poor for the obvious reasons

The poor return the ‘kindness,’ pray for the rich

And against contacting their diseases

‘k’eledua ma fi aisan olowo se wa o’

The married pity the unmarried, wishing them happily married

The unmarried look in at the married and wish they (the married) were indeed happily married

The employed pity the jobless…

Pray they never see the kind of hell they cross e’eryday

The jobless pity those in sub-service camps…after all that dust and to still come to naught?

Those in turn look to Aluta’s children and manage to stir their heads at them

Pity, if only they knew…

Downwards the pity descends, from Aluta’s children to Jamb’s children

While those with children empathize with the barren

Those without silently pray not to have troublesome children

3 million sperm cells keep coursing nonetheless

Keeping a date with the egg their cause

That lucky one keeping all others off their course

Pity, the only gift it gives for their ‘loss’

And the pity party starts all over again

From birth to death…