Written by  Linda Nabasa


I want you to hit me again

With your slave like hands, this time I won’t bargain

I want you to take me on that bloody train

Swing me then throw me out in the rain, Not once, not twice


You got so busy

Thinking you’d get rid of me that easy

You fist punched me in my mother’s womb,

I shouted mummy is your husband crazy

And even though your punches made me dizzy


You anxiously waited for the bloody thighs

So you could go to the bar and give your drunkard victory speech

As my mother lies in excruciating pain

And I on the southern gate of heaven, in the queue for babies who never got to be birthed.


Shame on you, for I curved my tiny body in pain. I was fierce

I was never going to give you that victory speech

So when you saw no blood, you slapped hard on her tummy

I shouted help me mummy

Please fight mummy


Speak man; if you don’t love me then why you did make me

Speak man, why did you penetrate my mother’s flower

Then choose to deflower me at eleven

Speakman: I counted to seventy seven

It was seventy seven times you humped on me.

You held tight my tiny waist

Speak man, why did you use your power?

To penetrate my little flower

You leader of the tribe of cowards

First man on the line of drunkards

Known in the books of the unemployed,

Speak you mother father

See am a good girl, I called you father


Men that beat women can never be forgiven

Men that defile, rape young girls will forever have their own line on judgement day

And we your victims will sit and watch you, watch you, watch you,


skin dripping from bones


Tongues, running dry


Bones to ashes


Ashes to nothing


We will watch you