iquo dianaabasi - girl conditioning lyrics
girl conditioning lyrics
a mother’s shrill cry pierced the gloomy night
it was supplication to the substantiate beings,
they responded with a firm bellow of thunder,
and the joyful cackle of lightning
your first cries came in time with the season’s first rain,
herald of blessings, they named you
father’s pride, mother’s replica
in keeping with your praise chants,
age 5 you were told: sit with your legs closed,
don’t climb trees with the boys
no toy trains for you; only dolls
age 10,
get into the kitchen, are you a boy?
don’t whistle, you’ll grow a beard
don’t ride bicyclеs for long
we need you intact for your husband
for good measure; closе your legs
your teens arrived too soon
and you became careful with boys;
acting coy, yet enjoying how
they examined your curves,
a rotund belly your only nemesis,
somewhere in the algorithm of
life, you forgot your heritage.
you believed your worth to
be calibrated in hymens.
when this was taken, you believed
beauty is measured by hair,
curve of hips, thin waistline,
protrusions on your chest…
21, you learnt to be quiet
when a man spoke, lest
you be called disrespectful,
you learnt that you were asking for it
if you smiled too much with him.
28 strolled in and the world remembered
you had a clock ticking faster than your
ovaries and womb could count.
they frowned when you sought a second degree
afraid you would school yourself
out of the husband market.
your mid 30s volleyed in as inflation rates rose,
so you married samson as 40 approached.
but his family sought their dignity
in the fruits of your womb,
castigating each girl child you birthed
but, enough now!
realise that you come from a long line of women
whose worth was never measured by
the number of p+n+ses they birthed
but in the manner of warriors
their tales inspired, long after they’re gone.
think moremi, amina of zazau, margaret ekpo,
funmilayo kuti, dora akinyuli…
if history and dead amazons leave you bored,
look to these streets with eyes peeled and be awed
at the resilience of girls and women
iya alakara, with beancakes like no other
up before first light, knee deep in the grind
baby strapped to her back, a toddler clinging to her thigh;
recipe for akara, never escaping the crook of her palm
grace oni+keke, conveying all to their destination,
come rain, or sunshine
good humour always on duty,
come arthritic pain or dysmenorrhea
look to the girls, pursuing degrees in defiance
of lewd lecturers, and faulty systems.
and young women battling glass ceilings at work,
reduced to nothing if no ring adorns their finger
you see character is not spelt by gender,
not defined by marriage or weight of pocket
but by fierce loyalty to goals, to family
and dreams dangling on the precipice of amnesia
when they taunt you, tell them this;
if a good marriage comes, it is welcome
and if children come,
you could be vessel for their arrival
and their faithful nurturer
if none of these happen,
tell them single does not equate empty,
and childless does not translate to worthless
if no seven+figure job comes,
show them, with your hands
buried in work, and your head
breaking down new challenges,
you will soon get ahead,
without first giving a head
show them you are the daughter
raised to believe your greatest
supermarket lies between your ears
and not between your thighs!
this is no race to outdo him,
this is a race to be the best me,
… the best you
feel no shame if the howling wind
brings melody to your ears and direction to your feet,
you were made for greatness, embrace it!
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