TEARS OF A VILLAGE GIRL
I have tears,
Tears, behind my eyes,
I often think of using them,
But then, I think!
Tears will not free my village,
Think of those in my village,
Where babies are born at home,
Without any medical attention,
Where the traditional midwives use their gloveless hands,
To hold them as they leave their mothers’ wombs!
Take a walk around, and tell me what you see,
The mound of dirt, is it not a grave?
A fresh grave! Wait wait wait!
Those are two graves, a man and his wife,
Orphans they left? Six!
The same story in almost every homestead.
The guardian? Grandma, Grandpa or no one!
Tears, my God,
Who do I cry to?
Education, cut short!
Empty stomachs, every night!
Nakedness, no money for clothes but rags,
Shillings? Only in my dreams,
Laughter, I can’t remember how!
Dawn has come,
My resolve, to be empowered,
My children, avoid my footsteps,
It might have tarried,
But you will never shed my kind of tears, as long as I live!
Let us learn, let us fight,
Fight for those at home,
In my village!
The weapon? Education!