For dis gate of tears,
Na him I put my prayer request.
Yet, after 5 years
You still no send.
My life be like flute,
Wey dey sound like generator
My heart be like fruit,
Wey be poison to belle.
Cloth no fit cover my shame,
Perfume no dey hide my odor
As I never change my last name
Or bring man come knock my papa door
I be virgin, I dey fast.
I dey choir, be church worker
But runs girls like Cynthia
Come even get husband
II.
My pikin,
I see your prayer requests,
And baggage for the gate of tears,
But yes,
I send your husband since 5 years.
You remember broda Luke
Wey you yab with your friend?
You say e no fit buy tyre tube,
I don make am millionaire.
What about Seyi?
You talk say him too short.
Becos you from Itsekiri,
You no even gree am talk
You be virgin, I gree.
Church worker, e good.
But you no fit keep, Broda Chidi,
Dey dress like bush woman.
So my pikin, wetin I do do?
My job na to send husband,
Your job na to keep am.
Na why I give you brain.
For yourself, make way.
Written by: Nwakanma Chika
Edited by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson
