Where is that Black Woman?

The Black woman is Africa!

Inspired by my love and patriotism of Nigeria and Africa at large, I wrote this poem commemorating her past achievements but still emphatically stressing the need for future accomplishments.

"The Black woman" is my poetic way of representing Africa, black is beautiful! Black is brave!

Enjoy people!!!

Where is that Black woman I saw?

Ages ago when she was young,

Flourishing in the fullness of her youthful beauty,

She hustled and bustled round the clock,

Planting the seeds and tending the flock.

Her beauty was like the dawning of the day,

Hairs like the curtain clouds folding away,

The glorious sun; Like her eyes,

Hot and burning with desire.

She travelled around the world,

Sowing seeds of strength,

And attaining many heights and feats,

But all did men forget,

Taking the glories to themselves for their greed.

Where is the Black woman I knew?

That harvested her crops in their seasons,

Storing them in barns, silos and fit-structures,

For the rain cometh and the dark night appears,

She that protects her own,

And wraps her smooth soft feathers around her young chicks.

She sold off her substance to strangers,

Merchandised gifts borne of her home to crafty neighbors,

And left her own home barren, empty,

She left her place abandoned for moth to rust.

Her pride diminished as her color diminished,

Now age becomes of her,

And so are her accolades.

Where is My Mother?

She promised me a bright future with happiness surplus, where is she?

That Black woman that swore to us;

To make our home like gold which does not corrode?

Like Beautiful Flowers which neither rot nor fade.

Yet she left, quickly, she zoomed off,

Because the pain, she said, was too much.

You left us, your children,

While we were weak and yet feeble.

The spider web caught our wings,

Thorn and thistles pierced our feet.

The journey of tragedy and sorrow we also began,

But halfway did we sit and remember; we recall !

That together we swore to this noble cause,

Tears filled our eyes and voices roared; Duty calls.

We return, we return,

From lands where our color was the hunter’s pride,

Behind our backs, the gun triggers' smile.

Home calls, our pearl, our virgin,

Which we once left ,and exploiters disvirgined.

We are come back to the waters of our land,

We have understood wisdom; upon our antiquity we stand.

Mother come, Mother come,

Your children are dismothered !!

Sharp daggers have pierced our hearts and souls,

Yet you sit quietly chained in the prison of prisoners.

Thy children call thee; O Black woman of tenacity,

Break loose from thy chains,

Break loose from thy slavery; Rise up!

The salvation of our wounded and broken home,

Awaits your arrival, oh sweet Mother.

Come soon, very soon o Woman of valor,

Before the last breath in us is gone.

Our gold so pure how long will thou linger?

Break forth! Let us see that audacity again; You – the Wonder!

Photo Credit: depositphoto