Of the rising sun of River Niger
Where women were once sacred
Givers of life and sacred custodians
Called mothers for myriads of reasons
Mothers from their very tender age
Little sisters but already perfect mothers
Being moulded to fit a perfect stereotype
Meticulously groomed to be the best of cooks
Scrub, wash, weed, sit with their legs crossed
Once they learn to stand on two feet
Their first choice is to be good mums
Multitasked ladies even before being girls
Balancing loads on their heads with ease
For the future will not be always kind to them
Happy as the children know how to always feel
They also learn that to be a lady is to know shame
For though perfect she might be, she’s only but a girl
Who should not look people straight at the eyes
As that’s not ladylike, thus unworthy of her sex
Alisonomi 2019©
