P O E T R Y

THE AFRICAN WOMAN

An epitome of hard work
The virtuous woman of a rugged terrain
That demand toil unending...

In the rural,
The African woman
Journeys incredibly long miles
Along winding routes
Leading to her fertile farmlands,
While balanced on her head ingeniously,

Rests a wide brimmmed basin
Holding the fruits
Of her daily toil.

Her bare back is often and often
Service for a pleasure ride
For the child yet to take
Its much anticipated first steps.
Pray tell, but what could be,
Her motivation for awaking early
Consistently and daily?

If only her could be read,
A few of her thoughts shared,
Then perhaps one would hear:
“My children will make it,
My labours will make sure they will.
Yet still, I must work harder,
For their subsistence I must pay.
Oh! GOD-willing, my children will succeed.”...

The African Woman,
Her skin is a smooth dark-bronze
Polished to shine by the fiery furnace
Man calls the sun.

Her hands, un-manicured
Are soft to the touch
Yet tough and wrinkled
By labours of all sorts,
And to her off-springs young and old,
Those hands are as gentle and soft,
As the floating clouds above,
And to her companion, her husband,
They are the best hands after his mother’s
That he ever found.

In the urban,
The African Woman
Is the exact replica
Such that it makes you wonder
At the never-ceasing happy creases
In the west, east, north and south
Of this dear woman’s face.
She is continually smiling,
Her true beauty radiating,
Smiling so genuinely,
You are touched in amazement
Listening to her voice-offering
Of sweet choruses of flowery praise to GOD
Rather than bemoaning her lot.

She is a heroine of all time
Giving her all for others with passion,
Sacrificing herself in a bid
For her off-springs to lead better lives.

Alas! The African Woman,
Her essence many times over-looked,
Is berated, abused and rough-handed
By certain “brute beasts” amongst men
And at this my heart saddens.

Yet, like the lily in the valley,
The African Woman
In the midst of much dirt
Is always sparkling...

- Songsta!