What A Burglary…

They broke into his house,
When he was away,
Thieves broke into his house,
And stole from his house.
He was aghast.
He was flabbergasted.
He was shocked.
He couldn’t believe what they stole.
He sat down on the floor,
To ponder and wonder,
At this latest effrontery.
How could they?
How could they dare and steal,
Of all things,
A mere nail cutter?
And leave everything else intact?
What a burglary…

He had thought of reporting the matter,
To the area chief.
But thought against it.
The chief was not very helpful,
The last time he was robbed,
Of his sandals by seemingly out of school boys and in a broad day light,
And he had walked bare footed,
To the area chief’s camp.
And the area chief was unable to help him.
Endless and useless questions,
Have never helped anyone in dire straits.
No.
What a burglary…

He decided,
To consult with the bush doctor first,
Before reporting the matter to the police.
The bush doctor,
Would be able to tell him,
The meaning of a stolen nail cutter.
The potent bush doctor,
Would be able,
To decipher and fathom for him,
The mystery of a stolen nail cutter.
The mystery of stolen sandals.
The bush doctor would tell him,
What message was behind,
A stolen nail cutter.
What a burglary…

Maybe perhaps,
The bush doctor,
Would provide him with potent charms,
To keep away the evil spirits,
The malevolent spirits who stole his sandals,
The impish spirits who stole his nail cutter.
What a burglary…

© Ayoub Mzee Mzima 2013

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