An African Woman

Somewhere in Africa, the cries of a woman

Bearing immense cutting pain

Wishing life not as cruel as it is

And forgetting the excitement

That came with knowing her man.

Alas, it falls.

Almost like a creature,

So bloody yet so fragile

Tiny fingers, tiny legs, tiny arms;

Whatever shall I call her

“Naa awula” indeed,

She will be my lady; my only lady

Spread the word my dear sisters,

For today a new member has joined us

Seven days, seven days it will be.

And the world will say her name

Pray we must;

My little lady ought to dwell amongst us

Let no evil eye beseech her

Let no evil mouth revile her

Let no evil hands stroke her

For seven days it will be

Just seven days.

Hail to the sun, for we present Naa Awula

Truth she must know and truth she will speak

Her feet shall flee from the wicked

Lest she be bewitched.

Make merry, for she comes to stay.

Come round and present your gifts and blessings.

She will grow into a very beautiful maiden

She will know no pain

But happiness

May she continue in the league of child birth.

Lest her face be drenched

In the mud of mockery.

Lighten your hearts and grease your faces

Herein rises An African Woman.


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