Tears ran down my face. My voice lost due to constant wailing.
All seem hopeless; there is none not one, willing to help.
They said to the kitchen, I said to school.
They didn’t understand why waste money on a girl-child when you could make money out of her. Out of a righteous disobedience, I found myself in the classroom.
I have struggled my way through to this point but now the declaration of the evil prophets “you will drop out of school, no one will pay a dime to see you through”, hangs loosely over my head.
When I lift up my head to the hills, I see fog and to the valley, smoke.
My view is saturated with smog. Oh! Oh! The plea of a girl-child…Who shall come to my aid?
Me too I was born some.
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