Written by: Ajayi Angel-Simon


The nightingale sings
With full-throated ease.
The tree swings
In its majestic way.
The lion gets its prey
For a good meal story.
But whatever I do,
I pause to think about
What people will say.

I am a Jew
In love with 
A gentile
But what will they say?

I am a Prince
Feeling agape 
For my virtuous maid
But what will they say?

I am a Protestant
With deep affection
For a Cath-Princess
But what will they say?

I am a coloured knight
Panther of my fair liege lady
Still, what will they say?

Even love for piety
In a stony society
Calls for what they will say…

Lovers cannot pursue
Their heartthrob 
For the fear of what they will say

I am a car owner
I feel like ambling the street;
I am a damsel with 
A fixed Brazilian hair,
To unfix it and plait didi
What will they say?

When you make a great feat
They will say you have suspicious feet
They will say 
Dem go sey
Wetin dem go say?

Before my thoughts to action become,
Must they first be reviewed on

Man’s quest for happiness
Is bound to that sorrowful cord
Called “dem-go-sey”

Is it until my breath is gone?
When my eyes can no longer behold Nature’s boundless beauty,
When my nostrils can no longer inhale its fresh fragrance,
When my ears can no longer hear its melodious music,
When my bud can no longer taste of its delicious delicacy,
When my hands can no longer clasp its sea sand,
When my feet can no longer amble on its graceful grounds,
Is it then that I will ask;
What will God say?