My lover’s beads are red, black and blue
Their rhythm like the music of love

I blame it on the Jigida
Those powerful beads that tug at a man’s loins and heart
Those instruments of seduction designed to tempt a man away from his wife

My wife wears no Jigida.
I wish she did.
Maybe i would have been able to withstand the power of my lover’s beads.
But she is a modern woman
No Jigida for Madam
Just foundation and lip gloss
lingerie and perfume

At night, she comes to me with unnatural smells and colours
We dance the dance of love, me and madam
But it is nothing like the dance of Jigida

With every step my lover takes, the beads jiggle
And like the piper and the mice,
Wherever they lead, i follow

The strings shattered in a moment of passion
Hundreds of beads on our bed of love

Madam found a blue one in my pocket.
I told her blue beads signified fertility.
Maybe the blue bead would bring us luck in our search for a child.
I thought of the many blue beads on my lover’s waist
and prayed it were not so.

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