GAMWRITERS

There she stood, naked,

In the sun. She smiled

And waved a hand.

Her pearls glittered;

Her pomegranates dangled.

And the blood ran furiously

Through my veins.

I stopped the car and waved.

She waved again.

I beckon'd her. She smiled

And bounced across the field.

(She was not naked, by the way.

She had some clothing, not unlike

Eve's after she tasted of the fruit.)

I looked at her, she looked at me;

We smiled.

I saw her pomegranates

Nailed against the car, with blooming freshness.

My blood boiled.

I looked down, I couldn't help it;

She looked up, our eyes met,

We smiled.

I slipp'd my hand t'wards the fruit

And touched the nipple.

She yelled, and jumped and bounced

Away, across the ricefield.

Few seconds pass'd and she was back,

And by the car she stood,

This time more exquisitely beautiful than before.

She looked at me, I looked at her,

We smiled.

`Let's go! the driver bellowed.

`Why the hurry, sir, who owns the car?'

`Let's go!' his trembling lips insisted.

He drove away : I fumed.

I could have sacked him

There and then. But lo!

Two hundred yards before us stood

An angry man, cutlass in hand.

His gestures showed he meant much harm.

And as they approached, the car and he,

The weapon whizz'd across the windscreen

To the other side. 'what's this ?'

`T' was meant for you! The Lady

You encountered was

His daughter!’

(Ndaanan, Vol. 1, Ed. 1, 1971, Pages 50-51)

Jarra is a district in The Gambia where the menfolk are extremely hostile towards strangers developing any form of association with their women­folk. (Ndaanan’s footnote)