Allow me to tell you about the woman that came before me
I hear you search too long
And travel too far to hear about the heroes of womanhood.
Grab a seat, warm up and learn about this woman
One who I met in her 40s
Who would have the strength to push out a hard-headed child like me at that age if not her?
I have watched that woman laugh her sadness away for the sake of her offspring
I have witnessed her fold her emotions to build strong pillars around those that needed her
And oh
No one would match the number of times resilience has been introduced to her veins like iron supplements
She has buried her mother
And combined that grief with that of her father
She has recollected herself after her children’s loss threatened to break her
and outlived the pain of burying a husband
Wait, have I mentioned
That her feet still possessed enough power for her when she watched her siblings’ coffins lower one after the other?
Don’t look at me with pity
Rejoice at the outcomes of my mother’s refusal to throw in the towel
I wouldn’t take up half the weight my mother has had on her shoulders
I wouldn’t survive
I get to walk on soft grounds
Because she withstood the thorns of her own path
So,
Tame your tongue
And raise not your voice to speak about the lines that curve on her face
Those lines carry the evidence of a life resiliently lived
And battles prayerfully won
If she walks right past you
Please do the dutiful
Make a bow
She is the powerful source
That accords you the liberty
To drink from the fresh water, I pour out to you.
Wanja.