Labimpe says to my face
I am a disgrace
She can not introduce me to others
Because I'm black and they're white
Because I'm foolish and they're wise
That I should just sit at home
'I never treat my mother this way'
I told her.
A mother is one's joy and pride
A would ride or die
Labimpe laughs out loud
With thunders that strikes the cloud
She says my mother is a witch!
And my father a wizard,
An ifa priest!
That my kinsmen are fools
Agents of the devil
Because they fish bush rats from the forest
And hunt whales from the ocean
Because they still wear aso oke
Labimpe calls them Lunatics.
She calls my head a spoilt lemon
Orange,
Pumpkin.
She says we are all Kaffirs
We do not know the ways of God
We live in darkness
And do not know the Qur'an
Or follow the Bible.
She says my mother hides her charms in her armlet.
And necklace, and bracelet.
And we are all sorcerers
Unbelievers.
And my late husband, her father
Is only respected
Because all the dead deserves respect.
Literate or not, believer or not.
****
Do you agree with Labimpe? Only the dead 'deserves' respect? Why are the dead more respected than the living? Does it makes sense not to respect someone until they are dead? What do you think is the reason behind Labimpe's bash behaviour? Check out the next page to find out.
YOU ARE READING
My Voice, My Choice
Poetry#1 in africanpoetry #6 in racist This poem collection contains various atrocities that happens between mothers and their daughters. 'My Voice, My Choice' is a debate between an educated daughter and her illiterate mother. Experience is the best teac...
