Nahum.
3.
Curse dey di town wey full with innocent pipol blood! Na lie-lie and propaty wey dem tif, naim full der and na to kill pipol bi dia work. 
Make una listin as di pipol wey dey drive di shariot, dey whip di horse dem as dem dey kom di town and as dia taya dey shake di groun. 
Dem dey ready to kill. Dia swod and spear dey shine as dem dey kill pipol for evriwhere. Nobody fit kount di pipol wey dem kill and doz wey remain dey run fall on-top di dead body dem. 
All dis tins dey happen, bikos Nineveh pipol too do ashawo, dem don sharm odas nashons and make dem dia slave. 
Oga God sey, “I bi una enemy! Naw, I go let all di nashons si una nakednes, den shame go katch una. 
I nor go trit una with respet, instead I go kover una with dirty kon turn una to wetin pipol go dey look kon dey laf. 
Evribody wey si una go-go back kon sey, ‘Nineveh own don finish! Where dia pipol wey dey kill odas? Who dey kry sey dem distroy una?’ ” 
Nineveh, una betta pass Tebes town near River Nile? Na di river bi di wall wey dey protet am. 
Na Ethiopia and Egypt bi Tebes pawa before and nor-tin fit stop am; bikos Libya and Put pipol dey kom support am too. 
Yet, dem still karry en pipol go as slaves. Dem kill dia shidren for evriwhere for di street. Dem shain and divide Egypt sojas among demsef kon karry dem go as slave. 
Naw, Nineveh, yorsef go stagga fall like who don drink. Yu go run go hide from yor enemies, den yu go kom dey beg for help. 
All wetin dey guide yu, go fall. Dem go skata dem fall like fig fruit wey don ripe: wons dem shake di tree, di fruit go fall enter dia mout. 
Una sojas weak like woman wey nor get who to help am. Dem go open una town gate for una enemies and dem go put fire kon burn am rish groun. 
Naw, dem dey attack una town, so make una fetch enough wota! Make una defend una town well-well kon make betta stones with mud, den ripair di fence. 
But know matter wetin una do, fire go still kill una; una enemies go kill una like lokust. Dem go kill evritin wey dem si and una nor go fit eskape, even if una plenty like many lokust. 
Una tradas many! Dem plenty pass stars for sky! But dem go fly go like lokust. 
Una prince and ofisas bi like plenty ant. Dem dey gada togeda for one place bikos di weda dey kold. But wons sun kom out, dem go fly go kon disappear! 
Assyria king! Yor leaders don die and yor ofisas don sleep go forever! Yor pipol skata on-top di mountin and nobody dey to bring dem kom house again. 
Yor sore nor get cure and nobody go fit heal yu again. Doz wey hear as dem take distroy yu, dey klap and sing with joy, bikos yor wahala and trobol, too mush.
