WHEN I WAS SILENT
By. Sr. Esther Jeruto Koros (OSF)
Remember when you came here raging mad about my mother?
How she had too many children, her bank accounts
clean like a whistle?
How the children’s feet were cracked white from
dirt.
And I was silent,
Yes, I had answers in my head, ones I didn’t want to
say.
For aren’t I one of those many children?
I remember too, the priest in church,
How he spoke until snort and saliva poured out the
edges of his lips.
Asking us to give and give and give…..
And I was silent,
Yes, I had answers in my head, ones I didn’t want to
say.
For I recalled how he rushed my aunt’s funeral coz
she died poor, giving.
I remember too, growing up, shy and timid and
feeling stupid,
How you
looked at me and wondered how I survived my infancy.
Since I was too tiny and frail.
And I was silent,
Yes, I had answers in my head, ones I didn’t want to
say.
For I am still here strong and intelligent and way
better than you thought.
I remember too, when the house was full of guests,
How my father drooled out words about how he built
us a house,
How it took him years of hard work and sacrifice.
And I was silent,
Yes, I had answers in my head, ones I didn’t want to say.
For I saw my mother humiliated trying to earn money
to complete her own house for us.
I remember just recently, the shock written on the
priest’s face
How he didn’t expect me to understand politics and
business and architecture.
Women are the custodians of ignorance.
And I was silent,
Yes, I had answers in my head, ones I didn’t say.
For I saw the ignorance on his face getting mocked.
I remember too, when you called past midnight,
I didn’t answer the phone,
But was raging with annoyance.
And I was silent,
Yes, I had answers in my head, ones I didn’t say.
For I realized the disrespect, how you thought my
world revolves around yours.
I remember how noisy it got recently,
How everyone wanted to fix you,
The village idiot wasn’t left out.
And I was silent,
Yes, I had answers in my head, ones I didn’t say.
For I realized, a woman’s life is a damping zone for
foolish exhortations.
As a matter of routine, the holder of the microphone
is exulted,
How they can pour their ignorant hearts out,
And get away with it.
And I am always silent,
Yes, I always have answers in my head, ones I don’t
say.
For the microphone is always in the hands of a he.
©November
2020
Well thought out - a fight for a womanhood
ReplyDeleteGood piece madam
ReplyDeleteI'm proud of what you are doing my bestie,birthday mate & classmate
ReplyDeleteWoow! What creative mind Essy!!
ReplyDeleteI'm always proud of you as a Friend and a Teacher..
Keep up exploring the strength of a woman..
Wow! I really love this. I am so impressed . Absolute truth!! Weldone Sr
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ReplyDeleteI feel the poem. The worth of a woman is on trial. But with the poets speaking out loudly in poems, it will be restored. For the pen is mightier than a sword.
ReplyDeleteRegards
Ayieko Jakoyo
(The Ex-Seminarian)
Great piece I love it siz
ReplyDelete