I snatched Nkiru’s husband,
He was not tied very tight;
I flew him to my homeland
Perched on a very great height.
He didn’t even squirm,
He didn’t even shout,
He leaned back and enjoyed the ride;
The great, stupid lout!
When at first Nkechi snatched him,
He gave a sickening grin.
Then Tobi came and did the same
He chuckled; the imbecile!
I don’t know why we bothered,
He tasted rather vile;
We should have snatched Emeka instead
At least he made us smile!
We came back for seconds,
To see if Emeka was there.
The silly boy man had taken flight
We searched everywhere.
I called up Temitope
And asked if she could help
She said she had snatched Emeka for herself
He was easy; a willing whelp.
We didn’t find her funny,
But there was not much we could do.
She said Emeka gives in easily
To every caw and coo.
I suggested Victor
Nkechi said, “Let’s try.”
But Temitope said she was bored.
That snatching had become too dry.
We tried to waylay Victor,
We tried really hard
But Victor was as tough as nails
And always on his guard.
He laughed at our feeble efforts;
He chortled at our vain attempts.
“You cannot snatch me, sorry girls,
I’m glued to my wife with cement!”
So here’s the moral of our story
For those who curse and swear,
Except a husband wants to be ‘snatched’
Your efforts are in vain, my dear!