The following piece was submitted as a guest contribution to this blog.
Pull my hair,
'let go!!' my mama screams.
The battle between my mother and
your filthy servants trying to protect her from protecting me...
Trying to force her to watch you take my innocence away.
A victim of tribal war, a country with people
that once looked alike,
sound alike and even pray alike...
A country where all men pass to be your father and all boys respect you like a sister.
But no, the same country made my tears flow from my eyes
and blood flow from my vagina...
I couldn't look up at him to face the demon who I once thought was my neigbour
who lived across our house with the warmest smile.
The sweat from his forehead a sign of achievement as it drips on the floor.
His victory will be shared by the men holding my mother to the ground
as she watched this man pounding inside me while grabbing my hair
and forcing me to keep my eyes open so that he could feed off my pain.
Tribal war, he spits on my face after he's done
looking down on me like I deserve nothing.
I deserve nothing not because I am my fathers daughter but because I am born my tribe.
