You cannot compete with a white man
For a black woman
Who considers color.
She is not a racist
But a thorough chemist
Who compares, calculates, dissects
Every aspect of the two men
And so far, she enjoys the white of the coconut.
She goes to swimming pools and parks
To stare at half caste children of other couples.
She looks at the mothers of those children
And frowns, “He would have done better.”
And even when her boyfriend leaves his wallet with her
With the simple instruction “eat whatever you want.”
She only thinks “his trying too hard.”
Be it a sunny day,
She will choose the old hairy white pensioner
Over the eight pack black hunk.
She wants to know what winter feels like
What snow looks like.
Be it an earthquake day
End of the world day
We know her choice too well.
Even though she met a broke white guy
She wouldn’t believe his broke
She would simply think his testing her
Pretending to be broke
To detect whether she loves money.
I tell you
Even though in her sleep, Jesus sent Angel Gabriel with the instructions of,
“Get up and flee from that man, go west, far left you will meet you future husband
A black man who will love and take care of you.”
She would awake from that dream, shouting
“ Satani nvanko , I cancel that bad dream, Satani Nvaako.”
She’s simply weak that way.
So for now her current boyfriend, a black hardworking guy
Will stop asking himself why,
Why doesn’t she appreciate me?
What does she see in white guys?
He will instead do whatever he can to win her completely
He will try every trick
Ask for every advice
He will be the best guy he can be for her
But I know too well, how this poem unfolds
How it ends