I once used to wake up and 'kasuwa',
My hair undone and my face barely washed,
No caution whatsoever for I must feed my children,
Ina kwana! Ekaaro! quickly I must greet my neighbors;
Abuchi is the meat seller, a bargain unlike any other.
I once used to wake up and be happy it is Sallah,
For Abuchi's I must pay even though little,
For Sallah's my only price is my pot I must make ready;
For I am two things, joyous receiver at this time
And joyous giver at Christmas.
I once used to wake up to a knock on my door,
My sister-in-law walking, labouring for two,
Yesterday my merchandise returned from the South-
Today I can easily lend in "kwudi",
To fuel her easier journey to the West maternity.
I once used to wake up to "the eight" jingle,
Mama Adamu lovingly cajoling, education is life;
For the mornings, my consolation is the afternoons,
For we must meet, adorned and competitive
Proud to take our wards home.
Today I fear to wake up!
School is forbidden and so "the eight" is slaughtered,
Abuchi is wasted, my costs are uncountable,
I must eat my merchandise and lose a sister in labour.
The cock crows bombs, guns, machetes
And the cries of widows and orphans.
My home is infested by zombie charlatans,
Morning, noon and night-
have all together become alike,
A nightmare I must wake up from.
