The Groom Price Option

                                               The Groom Price Option

         A response to Chhinyere Eze-Mbulo's (Mama C)"the bride priced bridegroom"



Which one could be better?

To go back through the pages of the past

When my mother was bought

With precious cowries and palms

Counted among the properties of men

To value a mans glory

Fanning the embers of his cold ego

So he paid for his ego

So he paid for his pride

And his pride was his bride



Then mama’s place was beneath the chimney

Experimenting with mushrooms and melon

With nothing hash to bruise he luscious skin

She reverenced her man and was adored

Like the peacock tail on the kings cap

The queen in the termite hill

The pride of her home

Yes her home it was then and now

To be kept in welcoming kempt

So the bride was worth the price

And the price was worth the pride



Then the man’s place was up the chimney

Where he toiled his fingers burnt

For his ego was his gunning point

And mama was his ego

And mama was his pride

Protected like the termite queen

There he toiled till mama came a widow

When to leave and smile came to ride

Then mama had some kin



Which one could be better?

To cast and burn this our glorious past

Now that mother is caught

Eye to eye she shakes her mans palms

She shares in the properties of men

In a contest for the glory

More interested now in making ‘ego’

So who pays for this ego?

And who earns for this pride?

Who’s pride for whose bride?



Now mama climbs atop the chimney

In search of her man she’s gone on

Marriage records are watched in reverse spin

’cos mates are parting like seas abroad

In the name of closing gender gap

Does she want it too ways or to kill?

To be adored and still head the home?

The scene on earth should change now

So its time to pay the groom price

Such a price to equate the pride



Now the groom price it has to be

So that the groom would be bought

Like the television and cars

Paid for on a high agreed price

And be protected like the queen bee

And to be cherished for his cost

A sane dame wouldn’t bash her adored car

Neither would she smash her TV dice

So to love and to cherish that’s the pride

And the pride is what a price

So the groom’s ego priced