I MUST CRY

My 

hands 

Have been

 Bloody And 

Sparkly all at once

Precious stones stained

With Indelible blood

They came To spill

I must cry

Watch 

Me pet lions

And sip Sweet 

Wine from our vines

Cushioned in valleys.

Fresh waters and trees we 

Treat as gods - Beautiful sunrise

That hits my skin and shines it 

So bright it blinds you

I must cry

See 

Young 

women and 

Men Instilled with 

Morals they come here 

To break with their lies

And they turn around

And call us savages

I must cry

Wives 

Buy hunting guns 

And go down on their knees  

Handing them over to their husbands 

We give them power; we tell them;

“Come home with game, my love.”

And we fuss all day in waiting

Yet they say we are fools nd 

Come preaching untruths

That breaks the equality

We know

I must cry

Our 

Children

Hold our culture

Up high in their songs

In their dances in their 

Breath and baby-speech

Watch the mother tap rhythm

Into her sleeping child Watch 

Her coax him into walking

“Taa-taa” She says: Rhythm 

In our growth And they say 

We’re backward

I must cry

Our 

fathers 

Till the soil

Their sweat grow 

with our crops and

we share In communal 

Love. I take care of your itch

And you take care of mine. They 

Come and talk of individuality

And break our homes

I must cry

The 

Old warriors

Grooming men

To protect and not 

Destroy. Our old Queens

Feeding young girls hard-boiled 

eggs They must swallow whole, Yes 

Teaching them to nurture the delicate

Fiercely. Like the wild cat Transporting her 

Cubs to a safe haven by picking them with her 

Fangs yet they are not bruised - Amazing!

We are wild and gentle, brave and modest

We are Africa and they say 

It’s dark? I must cry

See 

I pushed 

Through debris 

To rise to this height

They stuffed me there

Burying me so deep I 

Wondered what they  

Were afraid of

And now I 

Know 

So 

I must cry

They must hear

What they fear

My voice

Africa’s 

voice