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It’s  almost 180 and the Chibok girls, have not been found. This poem is dedicated to them

In The Beginning

I was created like my male counterparts

with two legs,  well carved nose, beautiful eyes

I was created biological to become who I was created to be

I was made to be bold, to overcome hurdles and fly over trials

I was made beautiful, to reflect the skillful hands and wonderful thoughts of God

I was made brilliant, to take on challenges and be a problem solver

I was made an incubator, to take one and multiply it into 50!

I was made a homemaker, to cater and show love to the offsprings of God’s amazing gift to us

I was made a cook, to bake, steam, boil and keep my family in total health, I could even boast of cooking a dead appetite back to life

I was made to speak! to voice out my opinions and subdue intimidations

I was made to be loved, to be cared for and be showered with affection

I was made to be cherished, taught and nurtured till the day of my submission to marital vows

I was made to become a world changer,

I was made a blessing because we are the mothers of the earth, we reproduce and we alone are endowed with the only virtue, shared by God


But Because I am a Girl

I have become an object rather than a person

I have become a possession rather than an soul with a body.

I have become a desire rather than a devotion

I have become a flesh to be harvested at your full agro’

I have become a pot of tears rather than a vessel of virtue

I have being sidelined rather than put in the limelight

I have being subdued rather than being encouraged

These Monsters

They led their entourage in the wild nights to sow their plans

In the hands of Morpheus we were

We thought them good; their minds were dark like the coals from Iya Ibo’s kitchen

We heard their whispers!

They needed Money! Soo they had us to sell?

We Have Been Sold

Our conscience ripped apart like the fresh barks of the avocado tree

They marched us with thrashing sounds of the hunters chase

We ran like the desperate race against rain drops

Our pains are nothing compared to the prayers of a barren womb


They World Searches For Us

The world was kind,

we have been plundered,

They have not been over powered

They are raised their proofs of gross impunity by the media

We hear them, they are cowards,

Fear grips their hearts daily like the cowardly stalking of a hungry bear


Do you hear our voices?

Do you hear our cries?

Our tears flow freely like the gushing wounds from a soldiers flesh

We have no vocals hence we hoot!

Then we eat our nails and chew fingers for dinner

Do I die because I have breasts?

Do I become a model-slave because I wear ear rings?

Do I return to mother earth because my womanhood is mine?

Where do I run to?

Is my hymen a token?

Life is shapeless, I curse the morning

Who knows when the sun might set

Where else has my parents being to?

I bear pangs and pains at noon day

Then take turns around me

I lament at sunset

 I Am Not A Woman Anymore,

Iam now a possession

Waiting till the buyer takes me off the bargain table

Till then,

While they concur in hallowed tones

I suffer to take my beauty to ashes

Because I am a girl!