Tag: Poetry
Beneath Her Veil
Beneath Her Veil
Beneath Her Veil
Beneath her veil lay eyes filled with fear
Of man and his ways, of evil bred within good
Of what lay ahead of her, what fate had dealt her
A world that turned against her, blamed her, maimed her
Condemned to a death so bloody, an end so violent
A memory tainted by unjustified justifications
Innocent? Guilty? A victim of societal condemnation
Actions based on so-called religious obligation
Her body, tears, blood, their means to purification
To their honour, a restoration
Of her being, a termination, elimination
Perhaps she was born into the wrong nation
Beneath her veil lay eyes filled with questions
They leave their homes, closing their doors to their own sins
Their robes kissing the earth, their voices rising in mock anger
Stony looks matching the hearts in their chests, the rocks in their hands
Personifications of the ironies of this world
Dishonourable soldiers of God’s army, fighting for honour
Casting stones with hands tainted by their own misdeeds
Egos inflated with the thoughts of doing right by God’s law
Judges of the ‘adulteress’, defenders of their own adultery
Drowning out the voice of reason, her pleas, her desperate calls for mercy
Chanting loudly from the holy books, words they refuse to honour
Teachings they refuse to follow, commandments they refuse to submit to
Picking what favours them and discarding all else that follows
She questions the sincerity of man in his quest to please our Lord.
Beneath her veil lay eyes filled with indifference
To everything happening around her, deep within her being
Her effort to numb out the pain as the first rock strikes
Thrown from hands that had once held her close and professed love
From fingers that had interlaced with hers on those moon-lit nights
Stones cast by her friends, neighbours, her family
Blind to the innocence in her eyes, the purity in her heart
An outcast within her caste, disowned by her own
Her ‘partner’ set free, supposedly innocent of the act
Defying all logic… takes two to commit yet one was enough to submit
To the will of man, the unjust cause of the Homo sapiens
Beneath her veil lay eyes filled with pity
‘Forgive them Father, for they know not what they are doing’
Stoning down an innocent soul, ending a life they did not create
With every drop of her blood, their shouts of victory grew louder
All compassion lost, all empathy thrown away
Sucking out her life, reaffirming their holiness
Fighting and winning a battle that belonged to God
Ignorant of the facts, the sad reality of their existence
That with every rock cast, every jab felt and every breath lost
An immaculate being was abused, the earth defiled.
Beneath her veil lay eyes absent a soul
She slumped, her body a mass of bruises and scars
She met her death standing, buried to her waist
Her last breath in the whites she had put on herself
Whites of her baptism and wedding turned to a bloodied shroud
No ritual bath, no prayer, not a chance to be mourned
Cheated of her life, denied a chance at justice, a sacrifice
For men who sought reassurance in the sins of others
Yet their honor shall never be worth a drop of her innocent blood
And their sins shall forever remain theirs to bear.
By Jama Jack
November 2013
Feature image: FreeImages.com/Janet Burgess
Jama Jack is University Communications Officer at the University of The Gambia. She has written articles for Lend a Hand Society’s magazines: Extinguish It and Rhythm of The Young, the Daily Observer Newspaper in The Gambia as well as Balafong Magazine. She runs a personal blog, Linguere, which she uses to raise awareness on and promote the various causes she supports, especially issues relating to women and girls. Jama, who was also a participant in AWDF’s 2015 Writing for Social Change Workshop, sees literature as a powerful and tool to transform our society.
You have to be a selfish woman
You have to be a selfish woman
Ma’ami,
you would love these women.
Maybe not at first,
maybe not all at once,
but oh, you would love them.
They would speak to your heart
and
the things you wouldn’t say
couldn’t say?
Like “maybe I should have left my husband.”
Maybe I should have loved myself enough
To say, out loud, because it is important:
“I married a wonderful man,
but the wonder didn’t last.”
They would celebrate you
and hug you out of the dark places
where you hid your doubts about a faithful God
Your questions about a faithless man
Your prayers for your straying children
Your tears at four a.m
and five a.m
and eleven p.m
and midnight.
They would tell you
“ah, mama, you look amazing today!”
Or, “take that trip, mama,
it will teach you what deserving is.”
You deserve – peace in the home you built
with your own two hands
The joy of your grandchildrens’ laughter
A good husband
Or at least, a better one than
the wonderful man you married
loved, fed, clothed – stayed with.
I have questions, ma’ami.
Why did you stay?
Did you not have sisters
to hold you as you shocked yourself with your own tears?
Did no one tell you;
this is where you can go
When none of the children pouring off the playground
at pick-up
are yours
because your husband has stolen them?
Where were your sisters
to teach you how
you sweep up the dust,
throw out the trash
that a kicked-out man will leave?
I have so many questions, ma’ami.
There is so much I don’t know.
Why did they leave you alone?
These big-talking, prayer-hawking
women who claimed your strength
was enough excuse.
Where were they?
At this point:
wry laughter over longer hair
from cracked skull and month-long hospital stay.
Or this:
office-opening in Central Business District
and ‘Head-of-Firm’ on the door.
Did they love you at all?
Who did they think was holding your hand?
I have things I want to tell you, ma’ami.
Do you recognise the woman I’m becoming?
I would hold your hand now.
Do you see how your granddaughter laughs?
She will ask me about you
And I will hug her and tell her
at first, easy things, like
how I saw your face
In these women, in this place.
How it made me wish you were still here,
so I could be the one who finally told you:
You have to be more than a good woman, ma’ami
You have to be a selfish woman
and this is how…
This work was developed during the African Women’s Development Fund and Femrite African Women Creative Non-Fiction Writing Workshop in Uganda, July 2014.
Happy World Poetry Day. Meet Nana Akosua Hanson: Poet, Actress and Storyteller
Happy World Poetry Day. Meet Nana Akosua Hanson: Poet, Actress and Storyteller
Nana Akosua’s fierce poetry performance during the International Women’s Day book slam organised by the African Women’s Development Fund (AWDF) and Alliance Francaise (AF) inspired the following tweet from from a member of the audience:
“Nana Akosua’s handle please. She won my oscar. Great job with the show tonight. Kudos!”
On the occasion of World Poetry Day we celebrate Nana Akosua Hanson and all the inspiring poets who move us with their words, and delight us with their performances. Enjoy one of the pieces performed to keyboards by the very talented Nana Akosua on International Women’s Day.
Lovemaking in Purple Rain
Soft lips, soft hands, wet bodies, slow rhythms…
I give me, all of me, to You.
Stroke me like You Love me..Love me like You need me…just for one night…
A wet rose sliding down my cleavage, my hands encircling your waist, sliding lower…
Reach into the depths of my bruised heart…it’s dark down there. It’s dead…but Love me. Just this night.
Warm tongues probing, searching…entangled rhythms of tales as old as time…withered wishes of worn fairytales
Fingers brush the warm wetness of open thighs…
Breathing heavily on sensitive tips…
An incestuous affair of pain and pleasure…tears glistening on the tips of pubic hairs…please…Love me…if only for one night...
Shadows on a bruised wall…arched backs, breathing in the secret of night
Entangle me in the rich darkness that relaxes my soul
Light, a mirage of a rude awakening….drink deep my bittersweet juices
Sinful traps of sorrowful tunes, Love my lonely lips till thorny crowns hover above a bleeding head
Winding waists…clawing fingers…come inside me…take me slowly…yessss
Be with me, of me, by me…till You becomes Me and Me becomes You in the powerful circle of…Good.
Love me. Just this night
Climax hovers on edges of that sweet, sweet atmosphere…
Grab my hair…breathe in my…you feel so good…
Higher and higher…faster and faster…images, a chorused blur of Love tales, Love tunes…Love me…Just this night Love me
Fantasy meets reality on a purple horizon I’m…Free
Meet Charlotte O’Neal aka ‘Mama C’ who will be performing at ‘Women of the World: Talking about a Revolution’
Meet Charlotte O’Neal aka ‘Mama C’ who will be performing at ‘Women of the World: Talking about a Revolution’
[tp lang=”en” not_in=”fr”]Mama C was greatly influenced in her early years by the jazz, blues and gospel that Kansas City is famous for and integrates elements of that experience in both her music and the rhythm of her poetry along with the African beats and hip hop vibe of her spirit.
She explores the reality of her life as a Diaspora born African who has lived most of her years in Tanzania in many of her poems, one of the most famous being “I Almost Lost Myself”.
“As a member of the Black Panther Party I was taught the importance of building international solidarity among all people while honoring my Ancestral roots. That philosophy has never changed and many of my poems and songs reflect this burning desire and mission to spread peace, love and unity through my art”, Mama C reflects. “The spontaneous release of love that comes from poetry and music and art, in general… that thing that binds us all together and builds solidarity and understanding among all people no matter where they are from or what language they speak, is like magic!”
Her song writing and performing talents have been showcased on stage, television and radio in many cities in Africa and in America during the annual UAACC Heal the Community Tour. She launched her book of poetry, Warrior Woman of Peace in 2008 and plans to launch her second book of poetry titled Life Slices…a Taste of My Heaven, in 2013. Mama C debuted several of her newest poems during the Poetry Africa Tour 2010 to Cape Town, South Africa; Harare, Zimbabwe and Blantyre, Malawi and the 14th Annual Poetry Africa Festival in Durban, all sponsored by the Creative Arts Center at University of kwaZulu Natal.
Mama C is Co Director along with George Kyomoshulu, of the newly established Arusha Poetry Club in Arusha, Tanzania which serves as a platform for East African poets and artists around the planet. She recently completed her 4th music/spoken word album produced at Peace Power Productions studio at UAACC and she has directed and appeared in several music videos featuring East African artists.
http://soundcloud.com/mamac2011
YouTube channel: mamacharlotteuaacc
Mama C and Pete O’Neal are the subjects of two award winning documentaries about their lives and activism including American Exile narrated by Hollywood actress Alfre Woodard and the PBS documentary, A Panther in Africa by Aaron Matthews and she is one of the featured artists along with M1 of deadprez in a newly released documentary on art and activism by Michael Wanguhu titled Ni Wakati. http://www.pbs.org/itvs/globalvoices/pantherinafrica.html
http://www.niwakatithefilm.com/[/tp]
[tp lang=”fr” not_in=”en”]Mama C a été grandement influencée dans ses premières années par le jazz, le blues et le gospel pour lesquelq Kansas City est célèbre et intègre des éléments de cette expérience à la fois dans sa musique et le rythme de sa poésie avec les rythmes africains et hip hop dans l’ambiance de son esprit.
Elle explore la réalité de sa vie comme une membre de la diaspora africaine qui a vécu la plupart de ses années en Tanzanie dans plusieurs de ses poèmes, l’un des plus célèbre étant “Je me suis presque perdue».
“Etre membre du Black Panther Party m’a enseigné l’importance de renforcer la solidarité internationale entre toutes les personnes, tout en respectant mes racines ancestrales. Cette philosophie n’a jamais changé et beaucoup de mes poèmes et des chansons reflétent ce désir ardent et la mission de répandre la paix, l’amour et l’unité à travers mon art “, Reflète Mama C. “La libération spontanée de l’amour qui vient de la poésie et de la musique et de l’art, en général … cette chose qui nous lie tous ensemble et construit la solidarité et la compréhension entre toutes les personnes, peu importe d’où ils viennent ou quelle langue ils parlent, est comme par magie!”
Son don d’écriture de chansons et ses talents scéniques ont été présentés sur scène, à la télévision et à la radio dans de nombreuses villes en Afrique et en Amérique pendant la tournée annuelle ‘UAACC Heal the Community ‘. Elle a lancé son livre de poésie, Warrior Woman of Peace en 2008 et prévoit de lancer son deuxième recueil de poésie Life Slices…a Taste of My Heaven, en 2013. Mama C a débuté plusieurs de ses poèmes les plus récents lors de l’Africa Poetry Tour en 2010 au Cap, Afrique du Sud; Harare, Zimbabwe et Blantyre, Malawi et lors du 14ème Festival Poésie annuel d’Afrique à Durban, tous parrainés par le Centre des arts créatifs de l’Université du KwaZulu Natal.
Mama C est codirectrice avec George Kyomoshulu, du nouvellement créé Arusha Poetry Club à Arusha, en Tanzanie, qui sert de plate-forme pour les poètes et les artistes africains de l’Est autour de la planète. Elle a récemment terminé son 4e album de musique / slam produit par Peace Power Productions studio a UAACC et elle a dirigé et joué dans plusieurs vidéos de musique mettant en vedette des artistes d’Afrique orientale.
http://soundcloud.com/mamac2011
YouTube channel: mamacharlotteuaacc
Mama C et Pete O’Neal sont les sujets de deux documentaires primés sur leur vie et leur activisme dont leur American Exile narré par l’actrice hollywoodienne Alfre Woodard et le documentaire de PBS, une panthère en Afrique par Aaron Matthews et elle est l’un des artistes présentés avec M1 avec deadprez dans un documentaire récemment publié sur l’art et l’activisme par Michael Wanguhu intitulé Ni Wakati
http://www.pbs.org/itvs/globalvoices/pantherinafrica.htmlhttp:/