African Woman

You
You are Woman
African woman
Mama, Africa
Africa, Mama

And this?
Is your song
Even as you are song, the Song
Mama
How? ever, shall we sing the song of the Song
This, is your story
Even as you are story, the story
How? ever, shall we tell a story of the story
Mama wa Afrika, Afrika the motherland
The Motherland that feeds us, and you, birth its children
The children that make the motherland.
The trinity of Africa’s existence
We narrate you
You are the African Woman

You
Mama,
You must Know
Your grandchildren weren’t there
But we sing you.
We sing of the way your voice boomed in the rendition of Muthirigu,
The roaring melodies, So powerful,
the white men shuddered and searched for their guns
And as you bellowed, stomped and gyrated,
You shushed them, with the twitching of your buttocks
Retreating at the quaking of your shoulders
You scared the enemy with dance

Mama,
You faced bullets
Muthirigu was your weapon and your dancing, your shield
Your grandchildren sing of all those times,
You kept your community safe
With nothing but song and dance as a weapon,
Only you could!
African Woman

Mama
You carried yourself like a god
The river god
For you are the nodes, in the river that is our lineage.
Still,
You laid it all down,
Peeling the clothes of your skin
Revealing that regal skin of yours
That only an African woman can possess
And the parts of you, your sons must never lay eyes on….

You told them, Mama,
They were just an itch in your buttocks
As you turned your back to them,
And started scratching,
You warned them
The scratching won’t stop,
Not until the itch left
You loved us, facing the bullet
With nothing but the scratching as a weapon
Only you could,
African Woman!

Mama
You slaved your body under their strokes,
With only hunger to show for the endless workload,
You refused to cope
Unleashing that shrill that was the women’s code
You went rogue,
It was time for unwork

You vowed, mama,
You were not to be controlled,
As you turned your back to them,
And began the destruction
You warned them
The destruction won’t stop,
Not until your labour, you owned
They took our peace
Facing the bullet,
With disobedience and destruction as your weapon,
You would give them no peace
Only you could!
African woman

Mama,
You watched helplessly
As they shot your husbands, your sons, your daughters,
And the child that still suckled your breasts,
They pointed the gun to your head,
And made you dig their graves
You buried your own,
offering only prayers muttered under your breath
In the way of a decent send-off,
So, you grabbed the gun

You declared, mama,
They must leave your land
As you cocked the gun
You invited them
They must face you square
Woman to man
Bullet for bullet
Only you could!
African Woman!!

Still, Mama
They destroyed the trinity of our existence
Ripped the land from your bosom
Demolished your granary,
And made you and your children their slaves
They destroyed your beloved stool,
The one you had sat on, as you stirred atipa,
And regaled us with tales of nyamngotho, wuod Ombare
They destroyed the three-legged stool

Mama,
We shall reclaim it
All of it
One leg after another
The land and food and freedom!
We will occupy, produce and liberate Ourselves,
And then we will put them back together
Installing you, mama.
the tray that completes the stool
Where you belong

For you are Mama
Wewe ni mama
Mama wa Afrika!
Afrika ni mama,
Na mama ni Afrika.
Afrika ni watoto wa kiafrika,
Na Watoto ni mama (you),
Na wote kitu kimoja.
African woman.