Monday, 15 August 2011

The Apparition

(For the Poets United's The Thursday Think Tank #61 - She)

My sight of her sticks out—like a sore thumb
The kamdelen-infested eyes, bare-feet
Parched mouth—words of sorrow
Spoken, frail frame of wasted body

Thought I, weighed down by
The sultry air this woman carried:
Where was her elegance of kidong’a?
Which wind would flutter her lorwaa?

From a corner of a shop I watched her
Carrying a malnourished baby
She could have been 14
Yet she could have been 40!

You my Elders, unshackle her
Free her! Untie her!
You my Elders, bring back her innocence!
Bring cheer to her face!

You the owners of traditions
You are busy hunting the egrets
Unaware of the vultures hovering over your heads
One day, Kacheliba Hill will rebel!

Lorot Son of the Hills’ Notes:

Kamdelen- Pokot for dirt in the eyes.
Kidong’a- A pokot traditional dance.
Lorwaa- A Pokot traditional dress.


Sherry Blue Sky said...

Oh, I so love your poems, Salem. This paints a sad picture, and I love your impassioned plea to unshackle her from her hard fate.

Salem Lorot said...

@ Sherry Blue Sky, she is not privileged with platform to speak out her woes...she suffocates in the stuffy cubybhole of society's patriarchal bent..I had to speak on her behalf.

Thanks for the comment, Koko.

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