The woman of the time


Of our fore fathers
When their ideals truly were to them.
norms, rituals, dreams predetermined their fate.
And woke up to their premonitions
Or waited for good omen

On the wrong side of the bed
they woke up to the birth of a baby girl
when she was neither a blessing
nor a gift to the world
the woman of the time

She was a like a shoot that sprouts
And buds in the trunk
at the base of the tree
She was only lucky to be born
But barely thereafter

She would live
And was sent to the well
Climbed to thatch the hat
Napped the babies all day
Sorted grain
And jumped the rope

And when she was at piece
She was as calm as a lamb
Tranquil like an eagle hovering in the air
Singing the ballads of fairy-tale
africa2While she lay her hair down

Basking in the ambiance of the morning sun

That time when she lived
That was her freedom
All she had to enjoy
And waited on her day to end
And to see a day that would come
To give her a different taste of life

When the breasts emerged
She was beautiful, virgin, finely textured
And gorgeous like a zebra
And then the sun would rise from her toe
And would set upon her hair

When her day would come to denounce her secret love
To flee from the bondage of solitude
To feel the savor of lovers’ romance
Get the dreams of her night real

In the darkness of the noon
The father in-law took charge
And her dignity would crumble
When he roared
And needed to be the novice of their matrimony


The sun would set
Waited the dawn of a hopeless day
And dignity was never again
Choice never a gift
When independence was unimaginable
And freedom inconceivable


She worked, but never would at her own pleasure
Worked her goodness and Kindness
Beauty and talent
Goodwill and charity
Loyalty and royalty
All virtuously she would feed her master


There was no education
There was no knowledge
There was no reading or writing
There was ignorance
There was no power

But there was joy, there was happiness

Grief and pain
And there was hope
The day was grim
The heart was empty

But there was faith


But there was love
There was tenderness
There was compassion
There was beauty

Of mind, body and soul
And there was as mile


In their love, compassion
tenderness and innocence
And the time was changing
To fought a war
The war that would end
To taste a different error


A beginning of their liberation
The men pledged to give to them
To decide on an equal footing
To serve and to be served
And to love and to be loved
They believed so much

In the end of the war
That there would be freedom
There would be dignity
Education and knowledge
They believed so much
In peace and tranquility
And in equality of mankind

And eternal harmony

This poem is a recall of fairy tales of sorts passed on to us by our loving mums. It has a start and a transition from the indigenous dignity to a modern one.

poem excerpt from nsimamukama’s literary pursuits-I hope you will like it


One thought on “The woman of the time

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