Kudi by Hafsat Abiola Costello

Kudi you won’t be growing old and grey

And we’ll talk about you to everyone that comes our way
Some people say ‘oh my mum, she was ever so nice’
We’ll say ‘our mum, she paid our people’s price’

In her time, there was a market full of goods
Surprise of surprises, they sold our people there too
In chains and beaten on the ground they would seat
As others bartered and treated them like meat

Our mum, she came by with a smile, she couldn’t hurt a fly
She saw our people were tired, the sun was high
She demanded, ‘you have to set our people free’
And the seller said, ‘ah, what do you have for me?’

‘My name is Kudi, I am money, all of me
Set our people free, pay for them with me’
With her went her husband who was money to the third degree,
So many joined till the bill was paid for eternity

Tis a pity mum, you won’t be growing old and grey
But we’ll talk about you to everyone that comes our way
Some people say, ‘oh my mum, she was ever so nice’
But we’ll say, ‘our mum, she paid our people’s price.’

Note: the poem plays with the word 'kudi,' which in Hausa means 'money' and MKO's nickname, which was Money Kudi Owo (money in Yoruba).
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