It's Not That I Hate Women, Dear Homegrown Comrades Poem by Ombuge M Moses

By Ombuge Moses

Dear Homegrown comrades,
It’s not that I hate women
As naught as I may look
As humble as I am
In-fact,
I treasure women
I love women
I adore women
I want to date a woman
Marry a woman
Have children
Have a birth control
Be a village elder
Not a polygamist
As you say it, culture dictates
But the way you do it!
It’s not that I hate women
Dear homegrown comrades

At 12 years
Young girl is sent
A razor to buy
A river to wash
The bush to host
Home not to turn
The cut, so merciless
So inhuman
So painful
The elder women
Steer the process
Culture to maintain
The men are mobilized
Bidding for a wife
A wife at 12
This is not human
It’s not that I hate women
Dear homegrown comrades

The young girl wails
Pain to suffocation
Pain of a bloody cut
A cut treasured by society
Maintained by women
Elderly, to be home
Preparations to make
To make, a wife
A wife at 12
Dear homegrown comrades
It’s not that I hate women

In the bush, she is tied
Tied together, her legs
Urine not to spill
Spilling is bad omen
More cut is initiated
This hurting feeling
As you read
Am hurting
To witness, to victim
Think twice
Upon my letter
It’s not that I hate women
Dear homegrown comrades

Its weeks of heeling
A process of making
Making a wife
A wife at 12
Men continue bidding
Local brew in containers
Highest bidder carries the day
Walking tall, tall they are
Short is the girl
A wife at 12
Dear homegrown comrades
It’s not that I hate women

The man maybe tall, short, thin but not fat
The man maybe 98
Maybe 70
Maybe 48
Maybe 32
Maybe 21
Maybe 13
The wife at 12
The highest bidder
Takes her away
This culture is a pain
The pain has to stop
Dear home grown comrades
It’s not that I hate women

From the bush
The girl is brought
Lead by elderly women
Celebrations underway
Men prepare the meat
A wife is ready
The husband of any age
The wife at 12
The people are happy
Culture is blossoming
Ululations are heard
The animal lost a life
A wife has been made
Its not amusing
A wife at 12
Dear homegrown comrades
It’s not that I hate women

The men are lined
The women Dance
The meat in plenty
The chosen woman
Most, elderly
Reveals the secret
To the girl about husband to be
The girl is to point
Failure result to beating
Hurting the healing girl
Until she chooses
The husband to be
Culture dictates
Dear home grown comrades
It’s not that I hate women

As sun sets
Dust settles
Bones pile
New territory created
Polygamy has ruled
Chosen husband
Highest bidder
98 years of age
Has a new wife
A wife at 12
To pile in a hut
Children to bear
Culture dictates
To this
A risky business
As you call me “the village boy”
Until we change
Dear home grown comrades
It’s not that I hate women
Women to be protect
Educated to be
Marriage when they want
Hard it may sound
To this I rest
In my hat
My skin bed, so cold
Tomorrow not to witness
Dear homegrown comrades
In my heart
Women I love
It’s a mistake to mistake me
Its not that I hate women
Yours,
The village Boy