It’s like you lived in her shadows
Or her blood vessels.
You got her a loss,
A loss she named ‘imaginary’ yet alive in gloss.
Stole her rights,
Concealed her voice for a moment.
But she was there
Narrowing in dark allies.
Her strength disgruntled you,
Is it not true that she was a woman of enigmatic weight?
You tried to rape her voice
And I wonder if that gave you her voice!
Yet, she sensed pain.
While the world was falling apart,
While blackness lost its flavour.
She forgot romance
As the blood dimmed the light.
Ran with a purpose
To reap freedom.
Vilified at all coasts,
And I wonder if that verified your identity!
She was not a saint,
You were insane to think so, she was flawed like anyone of us.
Look here and there,
We are living at peace.
You praise the heroes
And you forget the heroines.
Distorted, fallacious drawings stole her best wishes, love, cravings
But, I wonder if lying about Winnie Mandela broke her bones.
Mushayathoni Bridget Nwovhe is a 22 years old Medical Student, she is also studying Political Sciences part time. She is an author of note, a speaker, poet, editor and publisher at Yoanda Khano publishing. She is a member of YALI (Young African Leaders Initiative) network, an organization set up to tackle African problems.
She goes to speak in prison, 2 times in a year under a theme, ‘Being a beacon of hope where there is no hope’. In 2017, she published her poetry collection titled, ‘Calendar’s Time’.
Facebook: Mushayathoni Bridget Nwovhe
Winnie Mandela’s Picture by Herman Verwey/Mandela Pool