Sunday 13 October 2019

The Bird Of The Desert By Elizabeth Opiyo

















Dear Desert Bird, 

I know you’ve been stuck, and for a while you’ve been fumbling.
For miles and miles you’ve been stumbling, into the terrains and the ravines.
The winds have been sending heavy puffs of dust to block your ways.
Winding and whistling into your ears that there is no way out.

But tonight I thought of you and I am woke to remind you this,
God gave you the strongest wings,
No matter your size, no matter your pace.

The desert is your home of identity, your root, but not your destiny.
It’s the beginning of strength,
The strength that presses you hard down the soil to grow roots deep enough to reach for water,
The strength that holds your wings so firm you’ve never been blown away by the storms.

The journey, the heat and the struggles seem endless, the oasis out of reach,
But your perched skin will soon be restored it will glow.

Cherish that cold freezing morning,
When you wake up with your wings frozen, bones fragile and almost breaking.

Like a grasshopper you’ve been hoping I know.
Never stop hoping.

Until you land on that grass you saw far away in your dreams.


Tuesday 29 January 2019

Woman awake By Elizabeth Opiyo

                                                           

Hi guys, you can now watch the video here.                                                                                      





                                                                                                                                   
Transcript[   


I grew up in the arms of a queen,
Who got married off to a man more of a grandfather than a husband at the age of ten.
At the age of thirteen, she was selling tea in the school’s canteen,
Wishing that her eyes would have known what the inside of a classroom looked like,
A wish that only brought about memories from the days she disliked to recall.
Those ugly early lonely mornings in her father’s house,
When she could leave home together with her brothers,
But at a crossroads part ways,
When the boys could take the road leading to school,
But alone, she could take the one leading to the river.

In her world, there wasn’t even the faintest colour of hope,
Even if she dreamt of a future,
When culture would set her free and let her live up to her God given potential,
Days that the society would measure the strength and worth of a woman,
Not by the number of children she could bear,
Or the clothes she could wear,
But the lives she could inspire
She was still reminded that she is not good enough,
Not even her mother ever saw that future.

Walking down the streets of Soweto in the evenings,
She is reminded to rush home,
If her husband ever got home before her,
She’d be buttered.
Taking her back to the olden days in her father’s home,
She was punished harshly for getting home late,
Just before she could explain why

She felt useless,
Because, she was taught to see herself less
Being loved is good, but being heard feels even better,

Holding back her voice was the only choice she had left
As if her voice was one thing that God forgot when making her,
Her ideas not good enough for their ears,
She nursed her fears for years,
As if life was built of walls that gave no way out,
She blamed her own walls for betraying her,
But fed up with kitchen soot,
She broke down the walls and escaped to freedom.
Setting free the woman she had imprisoned for twenty-two years
She moved to the front line realizing that the backseat had had enough of her,
And it felt like she was getting in touch with life for the first time.

So she told me that, if they ask you for milk,
Give them water,
If that’s all you can afford to offer,
But even better, give them milkshake and butter,
Shake their hands and let them find in you that you are a woman,
You can just be more than they asked for,
Show them that men and women alike,
Are equally important.

And it doesn’t mean that as a woman,
You deserve any leadership position just because gender needs to be balanced,
Let your qualities be the reason.