A survivor
Of the cursed womb
That walks at night.
Indeed an unlucky kid
Her mother, a night nurse,
Her unknown father,
A father of many
Whom only her mother knows.
Its not her mistake,
Poor daughter of a Malaya
That in the ghetto she’s brought up
Though many fathers she sees
Caressing her mother
On the creaky spring bed
At night when she’s forced
To sleep outside
And do homework by the street lamps.
Poor daughter of Malaya
Dumped on the ground
To make space on the bed,
For her nocturnal fathers,
Or on the mat to spend nights filled with “bad” echoes
As she sleeps between
Black pots of food
And patrolling rats of the house.
Poor daughter of Malaya
An unlucky baby…….
This daughter of a night whore
Whom before birth
Was mercilessly tormented
With a tight belt
On her pregnant mothers belly
To suffocate her to death
Plus her hairless head
Burnt by abortion chemicals,
But she survived….
Down pit latrines they are dumped
Daughters of malayas
For latrines and mtaros are the easier way
And the mother is a girl again
“repaired and holy”
By murder of innocent souls
That might have grown
To be bankers, lawyers, teachers or even presidents
And ready to date teens…
After being “repaired”,
The mother is ready to date a teen boy
From high school or college.
Poor daughter of Malaya….
A discharge from
The uterus of street walking
All I know is that her mom is a malaya
And her dad is a drunken master
And that she too will become a whore.
Poor daughter of Malaya
Will never taste
Motherly love
But only feel the hard chests of gym carriers
With dried thighs
When her mother is gone
To earn their daily bread
While daughter of Malaya
Sleeps next to her urine
Overflowing from her bladderless vagina.
Poor daughter of Malaya
Only me the poet feels her pain
And knows her secrets for her future
And her hopes and dreams.
The future that
She wants to create
From the sleepless nights she spends
Doing he homeworks
With koroboi tin lamps and the moonlight.
The future of her getting an A
A first class honor and becoming
An aeronautical engineer
That’s her ambition
And I pray for you
Poor daughter of Malaya
Even though your mama spoils your future
[ Bob Odhiambo (c) 2013, It IS Very Sad]
Of the cursed womb
That walks at night.
Indeed an unlucky kid
Her mother, a night nurse,
Her unknown father,
A father of many
Whom only her mother knows.
Its not her mistake,
Poor daughter of a Malaya
That in the ghetto she’s brought up
Though many fathers she sees
Caressing her mother
On the creaky spring bed
At night when she’s forced
To sleep outside
And do homework by the street lamps.
Poor daughter of Malaya
Dumped on the ground
To make space on the bed,
For her nocturnal fathers,
Or on the mat to spend nights filled with “bad” echoes
As she sleeps between
Black pots of food
And patrolling rats of the house.
Poor daughter of Malaya
An unlucky baby…….
This daughter of a night whore
Whom before birth
Was mercilessly tormented
With a tight belt
On her pregnant mothers belly
To suffocate her to death
Plus her hairless head
Burnt by abortion chemicals,
But she survived….
Down pit latrines they are dumped
Daughters of malayas
For latrines and mtaros are the easier way
And the mother is a girl again
“repaired and holy”
By murder of innocent souls
That might have grown
To be bankers, lawyers, teachers or even presidents
And ready to date teens…
After being “repaired”,
The mother is ready to date a teen boy
From high school or college.
Poor daughter of Malaya….
A discharge from
The uterus of street walking
All I know is that her mom is a malaya
And her dad is a drunken master
And that she too will become a whore.
Poor daughter of Malaya
Will never taste
Motherly love
But only feel the hard chests of gym carriers
With dried thighs
When her mother is gone
To earn their daily bread
While daughter of Malaya
Sleeps next to her urine
Overflowing from her bladderless vagina.
Poor daughter of Malaya
Only me the poet feels her pain
And knows her secrets for her future
And her hopes and dreams.
The future that
She wants to create
From the sleepless nights she spends
Doing he homeworks
With koroboi tin lamps and the moonlight.
The future of her getting an A
A first class honor and becoming
An aeronautical engineer
That’s her ambition
And I pray for you
Poor daughter of Malaya
Even though your mama spoils your future
[ Bob Odhiambo (c) 2013, It IS Very Sad]
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