p’Bitek Okot Quotes

In the wisdom of the Acoli, time is not stupidly split up into seconds and minutes. It does not flow like beer in a pot that is sucked until it is finished.

You kiss her on the cheek, as white people do. You kiss her lips, even if they have open sores, as white people do. You exchange slimy saliva from each other's mouths, just like white people do.

I may not fully understand the ways of foreigners, but I do not despise their customs.

Look, straight before you is the central pole, that shiny stool... At the foot of the pole is my father's revered stool. Further on, the rows of pots placed one on top of the other are stores and cupboards. Millet flour, dried carcasses of various animals, beans, peas, fish, dried cucumber...

Each man, though not necessarily with his wife, dances inside a dark house. They shamelessly hold each other tightly, so tightly that it feels as if they can barely breathe.

I do not know how to cook like white women; I do not enjoy white men's foods; and how they eat, how could I know? And why should I know it?

Ocol is no longer in love with; The old type; He is in love with a modern girl; The name of the beautiful one; Is Clementine; Brother, when you see Clementine! The beautiful one aspires; To look like a white woman; Her lips are red-hot; Like glowing charcoal; She resembles the wild cat; That has dipped its mouth in blood; Her mouth is like raw yaws; Tina dusts powder on her face; And it looks so pale ;...

The electric fire kills people: they say it is lightning...

When the drums beat, and the black youths kick up dust, they dance with energy and vigor. They dance with a healthy spirit, naughtily with pride, and full of life. It's a dance filled with competition, provocation, and challenges, showcasing their youthful exuberance and cultural pride.

My husband says he no longer desires a woman with a gap in her teeth. He has fallen in love with a woman whose teeth completely fill her mouth, like those of war captives and slaves.

My husband abuses me together with my parents. He says terrible things about my mother. And I am so ashamed! ...

He says that I look extremely ugly when I am fully adorned for the dance, and that I make his bed-sheets dirty and his bed smelly.

The smell of carbolic soap; Makes me sick; And the smell of powder; Provokes the ghosts in my head; It is then necessary to fetch a goat; From my mother's brother; The sacrifice over; The ghost -dance drum must sound; The ghost be laid; And my peace restored.

No leopard would change into a hyena, and the crested crane would hate to be changed into the bold-headed. Dung-eating vulture, The long-necked and graceful giraffe. Cannot become a monkey. Let no one. Uproot the pumkin.

Perhaps she has aborted many children, or maybe she has even thrown her twins into the pit latrine!