A poem by Mariama Munia Zombo
Dedicated to all mothers whose daughters have been raped in Africa.
5th December 2019
My eyes have seen what was only to me a nightmare.
In anguish, I pray this is not happening, not me, not her, not here.
My ears, stinging, throbbing, have heard , what was only a dream.
I tremble, the hot burning sun in my face , scorching , not a sunbeam.
We shake in horror, we rock with grief.
Defiled? No, No, No , I shiver in disbelief.
Yes, she’s been raped, marred, defiled, broken, scarred,
Yes, we’ve been molested, wounded, provoked, charred.
Where do we go from here? I beat my breasts in guilt and shame,
My leaders, family and neighbours heap on me hot coals of flame.
My tears fall on dust , hot like pepper, but not on shoulders warm.
Eyes open, sleepless nights, head spinning from dusk to dawn.
She too cries in pain, ashamed, blamed, striped of pride, confused, alone.
My daughter, my gem, our pride, life forever changed, sweet innocence gone.
I rage , crave for revenge, cry for justice, but no one listens or reasons.
My burden too heavy to bear, whilst the evil is free, far from prisons.
Awake oh justice, Awake my God of fire , retribution and Vengeance,
Torment that evil I loathe with passion, do not spare him the sentence.
Wipe away my oil of shame , give her a balm and make my daughter whole again.
Oh Let the moon bring back her smile, the stars grant her light so she feels no more pain.