“This Is Not A Feminist Poem” by WanaWana is a poem that you should listen to. It bares the woe of feminine living and the injustice faced in the plight of vulnerability. It is not a call, a motion, a move, as she says. It is an awareness to the silence in suffering and marginalization, of suffering, hypocrisy, complacency, violence against the woman.
This poem by Wana Udobang is a powerful, deep and enthralling lyrical message.
Listen to “This Is Not A Feminist Poem” by WanaWana below:
You can also read the fully transcribed version of “This Is Not A Feminist Poem”. Find the lyrics below:
line nor chorus
her lover takes his last breath.
because those final hours are one match-point away from the backstroke of
their dead farewell even before they are lowered into the ground.
she cannot afford.
She cannot will her waste to stop because culture demands that babies must
birth babies even before they are whole.
the doctors can fix her. We exchange broken smiles but mine is crackling with
questions and I want to ask, how does a six year old ask to be gang raped for
lunch after school?
crawl around her neck, my lips are too drowsy to ask God why?
clench his teeth over choking tears for what his son had done to you.
to home so he washes of your shame with a sponge, dabs your wounds with
scripture hoping these words will in turn douse the stench of the breath, erase
the handprints that form maps across your skin, and glue together all that is
broken of you.
refusing to disappear, so this is how you exist with a tape loop in your head
playing over and over again.
in my country or whom, how and why we have refused to pay her ransom
hands stifle their lungs of ambition
bribe, sworn to protect you but tell you that domestic matters are familymatters.
throat is parched and yet again you begin to thirst for it yet again.
an heir that you take in the seeds of betrayal wanting it to pull together the
remnants of matrimony. This is what it means to be a real woman.
back home knowing that their future is dangling between their bodies and their
silence, yet deciding which to betray first
that leaves you reminded that you will always loose so you grin, dust it off a
shoulder and bear it. You return to your job because this meager wage pays for
your little brother’s tuition and your mother’s heart medicine.
your body is a minefield, trampled upon by the politics of culture
you are currency and by virtue of your existence you are only half human never
equal, never the same.
success are meaningless until they are smelted into a ring on your finger
sisters who struggle and continue to fight”
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