When mid night had just passed..
Runyenyesa, the elderly drunkard,
Was still holding onto the frogs,
With him echoeing, Tugooga Tugooga,
The frog’s lyrical song,
That never changes,
Generation to generation,
As they sang in unison…
At the wee hour of 3am,
We heard, in slow-motion,
Like Judith Heard,
The main door giving-way,
Whereupon, we thought,
The night dancer had arrived
But Kakwitsi, our dog, with a long mouth,
Never barked, it backed, buckled
And beckoned instead
..
Then, the man with a white cock,
Appeared unpurturbdly tipsy or drunk,
Commandeering us,
To enlist the bird to the kitchen!
It was the fastest kitchen-chicken race,
That in a flash, we sat,
And feasted on this rare catch!
As the day broke,
We took its head across the valley,
Delivered it,
To the former owner,
With Kafiti, the village wag
R.I.P Muhumuza Charles,
We swallowed that white chicken,
And the fire went forever silent ,
In the Kitchen
