By: Kolade Olawale Kabir Àdèlé


The preacher girl is a marketer, selling

Words of the scripture on a dusty

Nigerian road while sun rays

Feed on her skin.

The preacher boy is a spiritual athlete,

Winning souls into a population 

Whose hearts are now fenced by 

The fear of God.


The preacher man is a businessman, giving

Good tidings of a fictional

Home; heaven

To preacher boy

And preacher girl while

The church’s dropbox empties into 

His wife’s pot.


Five daily prayers are Mubarak’s second breath,

Our heaviest takbir only come visiting

On days potbellied politicians

Donate our stolen future into

The fisabilillahi box.


Mubarak missed WAEC,

His mother’s tear didn’t cook well last night,

They missed yesterday’s dinner, 

The prize for the business they know best, 

— Religion

Is Jannah, preached in every Friday sermon.


Alas,

The fisabilillahi has done well, building

A beautiful empire on the Imam’s cheeks,

They keep growing like a lumpy, twin pregnancy.

4.3 3 votes
Article Rating