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Tyronehster
 
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Wedding Celebrations

30 May 2014, 21:45

All was resplendent, Nkandla was gleaming

And Jacob, the groom to be, was all a-bleaming

His pending nuptials to his bride number seven

Were giving him thoughts of his own private heaven

The tuck shop was stocked up with only the best

The other six wives had been put to the test

They knew they dare not run out of puza today

For if they did all they could do was to pray

That their husband, wise Jacob, would not be unkind

If the visitors had at least drunk themselves blind

And he and his bride, safe ensconced in their bed

Would not worry if skokiaan were served instead

The guests were arriving in cars fit to brag

From waBenzis to Beemers and even a Jag

There were Hummers, of course, though the others were slicker

And even a Bentley, with a Kaizer Chiefs sticker

These were the cream of the ANC brass

And even old Rat was there, trying to creep ass

Cause Jacob had promised such glorious things,

The Cardinal of the new church, borne up on wings

On promises that he’d fulfilled to the letter

Of blessing dear Jacob, the sooner the better

The new church would be blessed the whole ANC

And Cardinal Rat would, of course, oversee

And he would stand here and bless him, beside a sangoma

And give them his blessings here inside the boma

And bless this new marriage with God’s holy Book

And watch the bones roll, and not dare even look

But he knew without doubt where his bread had the butter

So never so much as a qualm would he utter

For here was his chance at true greatness indeed

Within the ninth circle, that fed on his greed

Nkandla fell silent, the moment was here

With the sky blue above them, and utterly clear

The bride was led forward, dressed only in reeds

And promised to tend to all Jacob’s needs

The weeding was sealed, by virtuous kiss

And loud ululations demolished the bliss

The bride was led off, to prepare for her night

With this man she had married, her parents’ delight

Now the men started drinking, with the greatest intent

And so much was the booze, there was never a dent

The tuck shop was not on this day running dry

As the sun went down and slowly darkened the sky

With much raucous laughter and many loud songs

The men drank their whisky and bragged of their schlongs

One said his mathondo was much larger than those

And compared it against any fireman’s hose

Well, now was the time for our Jacob to rise

With a tip of his head as a nod to the wise

He staggered out into the darkness of night

To show his bride this great magnificent sight

He went to the hut and, bending, looked inside

And there he saw Blade making love to his bride

He stood up and guffawed and shouted with glee

‘Au, Blade is so drunk that he thinks he is me!’

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