|The African Saga (FEMRITE Publications, 1998, 102 p.)|
|Poems of Protest|
I will talk plainly
Because I am moved to abandon riddles.
I will tell you of how we held our heads
In our hands
Because the owl hooted all night
And the dogs howled as if in mourning:
We awaited bad news
We received it
Our mother blinded in one eye
Crippled in the right leg
Because she did not vote
Her husband's candidate.
I will remind you
Of the time the peeled plantains
Stood upright in the cooking pot
We slaughtered a cock
Anticipating an important visitor
We got her:
Our daughter - pieces of flesh in a sack -
Our present from her husband.
No, I will not use images
I will just talk to you:
I do not fight to take your place
Or constantly wave my fist in your face.
I refuse to argue about
Your "manly pact"
With my father -
Buying me for a bag of potatoes and pepper.
All I want
Is to stop denying Me
My presence needs no metaphors,
I am here
Just as you are.
I am not a machine
For you to dismantle whenever you whim
I demand for my human dignity.