Rape

I didn’t think he would
No!
He was my brother
I didn’t think he would leave me with this wound
He was my blood

I should have known
From the way he looked at me
From the way he often stared at me
I should have gotten the message
The moment he closed the door to the passage

Don’t ask me what I was doing in his room
Dad sent me there
He sent me to serve him
Dad didn’t know his son was a forceful defiling monster

His sick son,
A strong brutal rapist

Would I recover?
The evil touch,
The pains,all to his gain
Was there any gain???

My Body…
Broken beyond repairs
My mind…
Did he rape my mind too?
Why can’t I forget?

The shots of whiskey hasn’t been helping
The cigarettes only makes me remember
Remember how I struggled
How I begged
I can’t forget how he pushed me out of his room
To an untimely doom

Teach your sons to flee!
Tell them the urge won’t kill
Teach them to respect a woman
Tell them No means No
Make them aware of consent

Teach your daughters to speak out
Let them confide in you
Don’t let them walk through life like this worthless broken girl before you.

– Jemima Joseph
(c) 2021


She Said No

She said NO,
He only wanted to have a degree to show,
But because of your presumed strength and power,
You took them down both in less than an hour.

You took Her innocence,
Without her consent,
Blamed it on her dress,
And your Mental illness.

You took his mama Pride,
Left him with no choice to decide,
Said he was black,
And his skin was dark.

To the rapist and racist,
You ain’t different from the terrorists,
They take peace with bombs and guns,
You take the innocence of our daughters and sons.

One day you will appear before the GROOM,
Give account of all those you made live in gloom.
How you killed the ones He created,
Just because of your lust and hatred.

By Lekesax
©2020

WE, THE INDEPENDENT ONES

We are they that ride on the waves,
Of ideas, beautiful manifestos of the 50s,
The very spittle that our mother told us if dried before the 60s,
Our navels would rot,

We are the child born in lies,
A fatherless child of 250 fathers,
A child that reminds our mother of this rape called amalgamation,
The child who is half of everything,
Whose strength should be in being everything,
Yet one thing rules: the cancer of corruption,

We are this child in dependence,
To the blind, senseless man that knew how we were delivered from,
This very deep inferno between our mother’s leg,
We encourage ourselves with hopes in things,
Things our reality tells us can never be,
We are married to Religion,
These new Masters that promise us mansions and virgins when we,
Like the worms, cringe and bow out of this stage,

We are hungry,
Milk and honey we dare not wish for,
Our elder brothers eat honey,
They told us to pray,
If we dared stared too long into his plate, he would slay,
The nascent dream we have,

We are independent,
Masters of our own,
Slaves to our elder brothers,
Who constantly tell us that the rudders will be ours one day,
Yet make their sons our master when,
Need be…..
Happy Independence Day.

Chukwu Simeon Chidiebere
© 2018