Nuru Regardless Nyaku


Mama Africa


Early an African dame rises long before the sun
She sweeps, she cooks and she prepares her sons
For school to acquire the education she never had
With happy lips she sings songs far from the heart
Her numerous chores she cannot postpone for later
Over many hills she climbs in search of clean water
She skips the nearby pond to avoid river blindness
Extra miles she takes without a show of tiredness
She bares the burden to the farm as her husband trails
To hold more than his pride, his strength might fail
He staggers, stumbles and waggles behind her like a tail
It’s obvious he is not totally over the kegs of yesterday
The woman tills the soil and toils on her mind all day
She weeds, she sows with so little time to wipe her sweat
The man heads home when the tired sun starts to set
Mama Africa gets more instructions than a well done
As everybody says, a woman’s work is never done
Escaping thorns and reptiles she goes gathering wood
A few moments of rest will do mama Africa no good
Her domestic slavery is the routine of an African wife
High a price she pays for being an assiduous mother
She worships time and religion, how does she gain nirvana?
Beauty and grace she can only have a whiff of the aroma.
To have a taste she can only meld with the past like lichen
Tanned by the sun, baked by the hurried fire of her kitchen
Leisure is the pleasure that eludes her all in the name of family
Her own friends have forgotten the sound of her name finally
On reaching home, she sighs more from frustration than relief
Cooking and eating sumptuously is much of an African belief
She washes while her lord feeds in volumes like a store room
Amidst belches and teeth picking, the man heads for the room
She feeds on the remnants of her children and husband
For she wastes not what she cooks with her own hands
She is through for the day safe for the duty of consummation
This she has to fulfill regardless of her exhausted condition
The husband devours on her without passion, like a parasite
By the birth of the morning he satisfies his ravenous appetite
Her eyes close slightly longer than a blink and the cock crows
She rises to meet with dawn and the challenges the day throws
Her supposed companion compliments not her efficiency
Yet he quickly apportions blames on her for every deficiency
For her negligible incompetence, he sees illiteracy’s fault
He feels a wife from academia, will put his misery to a halt
Oh mother, Mama Africa, through her, joy is made whole
But it’s a taboo for her to share in the fruit of her labour
She is not made for tenderness, no! She is built for valour
When will the cup of infamy pass over her?
Why does the society depreciate, rather than appreciate her
How long will she be tolerated instead of being celebrated
Where lies her salvation if in her heart she’s not liberated
Too much mud has passed under the bridge but it’s enough
She’s tired of cultural torture. It’s time to fight and be tough
So long for too long she has forgotten the value of self
Mama Africa finally culminates to rest her whole self
Beauty is her birth right and not a selective privilege
She is done looking by all means older than her age
Its time to proceed from slavery to a feminine stage
The husband supports not the war she wants to wage
As we hear, hell has no fury like a woman scorned
The summon of courage left her husband stunned
If she would fight for freedom, then she is useless
To the family and the society so she must leave
Her attempt to go with her children proves fruitless
He said empty she came so empty she must leave
The house is in disarray for it has a new tender
He tries coping but he makes so much blunders
The things he gets right are his children’s names
Now he wonders who is he to keep laying blames
He realizes after living a day of his wife’s entire life
He needs her more than she needs him to stay alive
Maybe it’s already time to throw pride to the wind
It’s obvious that the gender battle is not his to win
He begs, he drags himself in humility with his knees
He prays for understanding and asks for forgiveness
He has learned the bitter lesson that reality teaches
He’s willing to learn being her other half without hitches
Verily she is an African queen he cannot do without
What ever the vicissitudes, they can work it out
The African woman has a heart as wide as the ocean
Full of affection, she easily forgives with but a little caution
Hand in hand they walk like teenagers drunk with love portion
Eager they are for they have the rest of their lives to spend
For a typical African love story, this is by no means the end.

Submitted: Wednesday, May 15, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, May 15, 2013

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  • Nuru Regardless Nyaku (5/15/2013 6:56:00 AM)

    Douglas, I really appreciate your comment. I am new here and encouragements such as yours would help me a lot in building my confidence because I got around posting this after a friend forced me to join poemhunter.com (Report) Reply

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