STILL I CRY

Remember my birth, when your face fell

As you told them, it’s a girl, oh hell!

I heard you, you know, and I cried hard.

I wasn’t welcome after all, I knew and it hurt.

Still, I cry, they say, # fear women.

 

They call me Babygal, kamami, tortoise,

They call me names and games, so much noise.

Groomed into skin- deep admiration, all physical,

A colony of sorts, a girl, even her sexuality they must mutilate

Still, I cry, they say, # fear women.

 

 So I run helter skelter, to boost our buts, like robots.

I lighten the skin and enlarge my lips, or they will oppose

I maim my back, to stand tall with six inch heals

And fry up my hair to keep up with western ills

 Still I cry, they say # fear women.

 

Why would you fear a life giver, soft paws

A tidier person, an orderly being, a future queen, no flaws?

Stop the cowardice, that speaks inferiority

Where would you be, in a bearded city?

Still, I cry, they say, # fear women,

 

Devoid of models, we are lost like ants

With no one to hold our feeble hands.

No one to say, it will go well, despite the trepidation

They trample it all, so that we’re flat with humiliation.

Still, I cry, they say # fear women.

 

 

When Oprah shone as she did, the epitome of hard work,

There arose some pretenses, wrecking us havoc.

She is female no more, she is just Oprah,

Rich and famous with an integral aura

Still we cry, they say # fear women.

 

I want to be Oprah, just a person, not male or female.

I want to be Thatcher, just a leader, not male or female.

I want to be Alekwek, just star, not light or dark.

I want to be Chimamanda, just a writer, not black or white.

I want to be me, deep and sound, just human.

Please don’t say you dread my dreams!

Sr. Esther Jeruto Koros OSF