Show Me The Respect I Deserve Poem by Sarah Mkhonza

Having faith under a thatched roof,
Listening to the sounds of hooves,
Rain tapping on the grass I hear,
This my dress in tatters I wear,
For me is written a new life,
For I never vowed to be a wife,
And stay waiting for a miner,
Who went to be with the sinner,
Their sad lives held in their inner,
Worlds unknown to the soil digger.

I live to eat mopane worms alone,
While I walk on paths of stone,
Wearing nothing but just a wrap,
Which the baby used yesterday to nap,
On my back when I sang the lullaby,
For I wish he had said goodbye,
For that would have been respect.

I ask what it is I deserve what I get they say
What I should get when I serve,
Baby on my open back saddled,
With a cloth that I made,
When I sewed clothes to wed,
This life that has nobody,
But just me who carry this baby,
And get to know it from the nappy,
That I washed with soapy leaves,
That grew near the river where I live.

Breakfast for me was mopane worms,
For they swell when they are worm,
In the pot where I put the salt,
To break them down into a gift,
That I would serve for this I deserve,
Yes to live the earth gives me that.


They say tell the woman a story,
For if you don't you will be sorry,
She loves to laugh even when sad,
And when you know she is mad,
These stories they have made,
Make me wonder if they know,
That even a pig is called a sow,
When it is being given respect,
For this is all she can get
When tables are laid by those who eat,
The strips of her that they share.


The story when told ends our life,
Takes it far and throws it alive,
Into the distance where it is flung,
For you do not have the same lungs,
Full of breath that was just for me.

The miner lungs that have shrunk,
Are like the love that has sunk,
For our was just a new funk,
That mingled love, sadness and hope.
Thinking we once thought we would elope,
And go far to the end of life,
For ours was a togetherness,
That when shared would say nope,
To the parting of our ways.

This hut no longer sings,
When it rains it sinks,
Into my heart yes it goes,
When you came I told you it does,
For the logs no longer hold,
For termites have always said,
It is time we are to build,
For ourselves a new abode.