May 25, 2025

by MK KUOL

my friends tell me to marry her

my friends tell me to marry her.

they tell me she’s the fairest

of all they have ever set their eyes on.

they tell me her eyes are summer stars;

that her face is more gracious than those faces

that grace the pages of magazines.

they tell me her skin is as smooth

as the face of an old grinding stone;

that her allure can make a dead man erect.

my friends tell me to marry her.

they tell me a woman like her―

a woman whose name

does not depart from the lips of balladeers;

a woman who does not return

from the village-dance unaccompanied―

is what a man trades his cherished bull for.

my friends tell me to marry her.

they tell me to marry her

even if she is whispered about.

they tell me to marry her

even if suitors are told to shun her;

that her pulchritude is enough to make up

for everything that might be amiss.

my friends tell me to marry her.

they tell me to marry her now

before other suitors notice her

if, at all, they have not yet noticed her;

that if i do not marry her now,

i might have to compete for her tomorrow

with suitors wealthier than a tried merchant:

the kind my people call akuetweng.

ha! i laugh & tell my friends:

thon, son of ng’ueu de mayau;

ngor, son of kon-gutbek;

aleer, son of agutnyang;

aluel, daughter of agany-adol;

makuei , son of jiet-manyangdit,

jiet-manyangdit whose fathers totem the snail,

my father, gutabor, son of kumjier,

once told me there’s more to a wife

than a face gracious enough to grace

the pages of magazines

or a body sexy enough to make

a dead man erect

or a name that departs not

from the lips of balladeers

or a damsel who returns not

unaccompanied from the village dance.

ha! i laugh & tell my friends:

my father, gutabor, son of kumjier―

a scion of the storied mayen-agier

who speared dead an elephant

long before his first teeth fell―told me

not to take for a wife a woman

on whose back whispers are hurled

or a woman suitors are told to shun.

my father, kuol-gutaluel, son of werhok―

flesh & blood of men who kindle living flames

from dead ashes with mere incantations―

told me a man who marries beauty without heart

will forever wish in his heart he was better dead

ha! i laugh & tell my friends:

only a woman proper

in the old ways of our women,

a woman her mother molded

in her near-perfect image

like most mothers of old molded their daughters;

only such a woman can i trade

my cherished bull for.

only a woman proper

in the old ways of our women,

a woman who wakes up before the sun

& goes to sleep long after the moon;

a woman who, without whine, does her chores

even when those chores leave her sore;

only such a woman can sit on this maternal throne

upon which my mother amuor mayen once sat

upon which my grandmother ayen mading once sat

upon which my great grandmother adut mayen once sat

upon which my great great-grandmother ajah yol once sat.

ha! i laugh & tell my friends:

thon, son of ng’ueu de mayau;

ngor, son of kon-gutbek;

aleer, son of agutnyang;

aluel, daughter of agany-adol;

makuei , son of jiet-manyangdit,

jiet-manyangdit whose fathers totem the snail,

my father, son of mangar-leek, once told me

to marry the daughter of a clan

who are heard about wherever the sun shines;

my father told me to marry a daughter of a man

who goes not to the palaver to listen but to speak.

so when it is time for me to marry,

my friends, when it is time for me to marry,

we shall go to patuel where the daughter

of a clan heard about wherever the sun shines;

the daughter of a man, who goes not to the palaver

to listen but to speak, patiently waits for me.

so when it is time for me to marry,

my friends, when it is time for me to marry,

we shall go to patuel, to her father’s byre,

& in the ways of old tie the knot―

with elders’ blessings & woman’s ululations

& everyone dancing & singing& feasting.