Clenched fist Paced the little giant about the space endless body trembles Chronicles of palm wine infested nerves What is there in his name? So much she had stood firm for it Wanting his love against her kins wish
Offerings to a deity One that snored with farts Evil had taken his vision the first strokes of his cane, the devil’s err The mighty wrestler had no match For at the other end stood a damsel A one in distress
embryos abandoned by narrow-minded chauvinists became creations that were left to the vagaries of women hallowed feminists with their Ankara bags perfumed head-ties with glittering beads the sounds of their colliding bangles filled the space they had no invitation to the platform but their ways had won a people’s heart
protectors of knowledge intellectual midwives the people of the Village of Faces salute you!
this is a praise poem; powerful women is different from women in power
One more creation was abandoned Neglected by incapable lads Flocks to clueless herdsmen Sheep with feckless purpose Drooling to episodes of their disgusting chivalry Their gold and silver were made of flesh Trophies of broken women and promises - Foolish sons and uncles
Daughters and aunties are creators They watch the night like fearless combatants Between the wretch of men and the future These women stood like guardians Ready to take every blow, every curse, all the crap Just because one more creation will survive - Believing lasses
God created man in His image; I didn't say that, I read it from a book.