Beyond Their Judgment Poem by Martins Akhoeneto

We left the village, seeking daily bread,
With empty pockets and hope up ahead.
A distant filling station called for hands,
Where men were needed to move loads and sand.

Seventy waited beneath the morning sun,
But thirty places meant the rest were done.
My friend was chosen; I was left behind,
Too small in frame, they had made up their mind.

Yet strength is not the shape that others see,
Nor can a man's true worth be judged by size.
I stayed because the road was far too long,
And turning back would mean admitting defeat.

Hours passed before they found me standing there,
Still hoping someone might give me a share.
At last, they gave me work beside the rest,
And I resolved to give the task my best.

I carried sand beneath the scorching skies,
While sweat like rain kept stinging both my eyes.
I lifted loads and laboured through the day,
Determined not to let the chance slip away.

At break, I kept the food accounts with care,
Recording every name and each man's fare.
A simple list became a test of trust,
And soon I held responsibilities beyond the dust.

I gathered workers, kept the records straight,
And helped ensure each man received his rate.
The woman saw a worth she had not known,
And trusted me with duties of my own.

She offered me a place when work was done,
A chance to stay when construction was complete.
But while I helped to build another's dream,
An admission letter redirected mine.

I went in search of wages for the day,
But left with more than words could ever say.
They judged the vessel standing in their sight,
Unaware of what it carried out of sight.