daughter of her mother.

Amuliodo! Daughter of her mother;

why hold your waste for my elders?

Before my elders you've messed,

on toes of our ancestors you've stepped-

when I'd have talked you out on this.

Daughter of her mother; see now!

Cleansing, I'm told you need be,

to purely purify you in our ways.

But now where is the black goat?

Had the priest demanded a sheep,

of your swinging waste we'd make a black sheep.

Daughter of her mother; how cursed is thy waste?

Daughter of her mother, elders murmur in hushed tones;

of my neighbor breaking your limb,

but on your two you're standing-

swinging it on a disabled hind quarter.

Daughter of her mother, why the unseen limb,

broken yet rocky hills you climb.

Before the ritual tomorrow,

elders say you should cook.

Daughter of her mother, cook!

That I should eat and mend the broken limb.

Amuliodo; cook! But remember not my neighbor,

My ship will no longer deck in his harbour.

Bunguswa Writes.