From childhood, you were betrothed
To a fate unknown and mysterious,
From adolescent, you faced it
The cruelty of poverty,
From sisterhood, you saw it
The fierceness of competition,
From spinsterhood, you endured it
The harshness of being female,
From motherhood, you tasted it
The real texture of lack and want,
From womanhood, you suffered it
The archaic nature of culture,
From widowhood, you swallowed it
The bitterness of death,
I love you Mama Africa.

Trekked to Nkwo and Eke
Orie, Afor, every market day
Sold for food, clothes, school fees
Climbed mountains to fetch water
Climbed trees for firewood,
Dared darkness and loneliness
A warrior, queen, an Amazon.

You gave birth in the farm
Market square and roadside,
Fought and won death severally
Conquered crudity and nudity.

Young, strong, rich and well
Healthy, wealthy, great and green
Tall, holy, beautiful and educated
Short, unholy, ugly and illiterate
Witch, wizard, sick and weak
Bedridden, forbidden, banished, ostracized
Old, raggy, shabby and haggard
Memory loss, irritating smell
Shapeless, senseless, sagged breasts
Gray hairs, wrinkles, shrinking
Anyhow, I love you Mama Africa

HAPPY MOTHERING SUNDAY DEAR MAMA