By Noel A. Ihebuzor
(A response to this poem which pains and troubles me)
I veil my face
I fake, I affect a pace
I strike a pose to please
I part unveil my ware
to attract, to beckon, to appeal,
all to strike a better bargain
on these dark streets,
where for a fare fair
I fair sell my flesh and frame,
me tame, soul lame, filled with shame
before rates of exchange
driven hard, harsh, heartless
unequal, the weak cannot bargain
I empty my soul,
as he emptyng inside me, also empties me
so much pain,
for so paltry a gain
all so that you, my child
will not be empty
when you rise
In the mornings, when you rise
clad in your innocence,
as you eat and fill up, I sing for you
but also to forget, my smiles fake, as guilt
and self-pity gnaw at my insides
And I sink, I sink and sing to forget.
13 thoughts on “HerStory”
This is beautiful, so beautiful.
Thanks. Since the inspiration came from your poem, some of the credits belong to you too!
Hard to “like” this, but needed to be said. So sad when there are no other options–wish she had a skill a trade to sell other than her flesh. I understand this is changing, but too slowly for a lot of women and their children.
Susan, thanks for reading and commenting. Painful and sad. I tried to imagine as I wrote the pains that the burdens of shame and societal blame place on these women.
Understood. You spoke so well for women like this–you have always had an ear to hear voices like this, and the right mouth to tell their stories, as well. We need to hear them. As for shame–there is no shame in selling what one has to in order to avoid starving his or her children. Any shame in this lies with us, for limiting opportunities for women to provide adequately for themselves and their children. I do know someone (clears throat) who is trying to change this picture.
Can’t tell you how much your work is needed and appreciated.
Noel, this wrenched at my heart. So poignant, tragic, with a haunting beauty to the words. But for some there are no other options.
Thanks, Celestine. We must work to create other options such that women are not reduced to these acts of “survival in the present” but which also kill them slowly from within and without. Education, job creation, social protection and social safety net programmes are do-able, cost effectrive and have huge returns on investment.
So powerful – I just agree with everything that Susan and readinpleasure have already said here. You have given enormous support to the original poem with this.
And it does sing out at the end in a kind of hope, I feel –if we only listen.
Oh, gosh, Anne! so kind.
When words leave the pages and stir emotions
Thanks, I really appreciate your reading and your comments.
I stumbled upon this and while reading it, it felt like sandpaper against my skin, searing pain it rendered… I am awed!
Thanks, Uche. It is a tough world for any person who has to sell a portion of his/her person to live.