I have seen mothers bleed their eyes out;
I have walked across women enslaved in a whimpering heart,
I had heard from my grandmother;
That the moon came home before my grandfather,
And I also heard how the whole world trembled;
Every night my grandfather walked into the abode.
My eyes could see it in a mirror;
How every evening my father played ‘’Bata’’ on my mother’s body,
And the whole house began to sing like a market-square;
As I watched mother move her lips aggressively with dying teeth.
I continued to see scary shadows;
And hear sounds of a monster from that night,
I, therefore, sat my mother down and gave her my two ears.
I even asked why she buried the voice of her anguish?
“The dark nights were silenced for your own morning,” retorted her.
A river suddenly appeared in my mother’s eyes:
‘’Your father was like an orange,’’ she said.
Then, she whispered into one of my ears and told me;
‘’Days started raining bitterly the nights after I gifted him my ring finger.’’
As the moon passed me by;
I began to see every man in the clan of my father and forefathers,
I saw love like colored hypocrisy concealed with beauty,
Then, I said to myself never to die inside like mothers before me.
I have spoken wisdom into my heart;
To let it love like an infant, and my brain;
To guide my legs from stones on this journey
So that when I metamorphose into a woman,
I will not see horror with my children that haven’t smelled the earth.
Olaseni Kehinde Precious is a prolific writer, marketer and digital Entrepreneur. She finds great delight in the literary and commercial world.