One day I’ll be a modern woman.
Perhaps married to a respectable man
Anticipating that our marriage be a good one.
One day he’ll come home drunk,
As duly envisaged of an African man.
Staggering he’ll want to beat me,
In an attempt to prove his masculinity,
Just like grandpa did to granny.
That day he’ll raise his hand,
Intending to strike me hard,
Proving to be backward,
Knowing not that I’m in a vanguard.
That day I’ll stand up statuesque,
Contrary to my weak and dominated grandma.
That day he’ll realize stupefied
My prowess in karate and judo,
That I no longer stand defenseless.
One day I’ll beat him to pulp,
That day I’ll remind him of
The place of a woman in society.
That day he will be powerless,
Not able to throw me out of his house
As is the norm for African men,
For the house will be a joint ownership.
And that day..
His head will droop in shame.
One day I’ll be a doctor,
A well renowned neurosurgeon.
That day I’ll cure the world
Not only of deadly brain tumours.
One day I’ll perform a surgery,
Extracting a deadly stinking tumour,
The tumour of male chauvinism
In the majority of society’s brains
That day there’ll be light
And numerous happy marriages.
That day I’ll be happy
Thanks to my iconic dearest mother
I owe no one an apology..
Womanhood makes me no lesser of a human.
I’ll stand tall like a gazelle,
Walk with my head held high,
All y’all damn male chauvinists