Chimamanda, weaver of the words of the rainbow
Even Pa Chinua Achebe talks of you with glints in his eyes
You have hung on the lips of Grandma Adichie in the moonlight
As she wove us fables from her wisdom tooth.
God has touched the lips of your mouth
And told you to bask in the sunlight.
Our elders have gone for the Indaba
We stood on the kopje Kopki
Chima and Chimamanda
She spoke clicking her tongue.
“Will you come to dance the Samba?”
“I love the dance with the Rumba.”
“The Rumba and the Marimba.”
She was picking the “Purple Hibiscus”
I played with the butterflies.
“Chimamanda, tell me another story.”
“Okay. I will tell you about the “Half Of A Yellow Sun”
“And I will tell you about the “Son of a Gun.”
As there is no history without glory.
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