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A Black Woman's voice - Poetry


My poems reflect the reality of women in South Africa, this is a collection of black women’s voices, voices that are silenced and those who are lost along the path of recovery, they talk of the pain and struggles that black women are faced with every day. The pain of patriarchy, abuse and struggle. One of the poems speaks of the injustices of the story tellers and books on their denial of acknowledging women who have played a vital role in the struggle movement.
These poems are heart breaking and yet eye opening to those who dare to read them and allow themselves to be immersed in these women’s stories and voices.

My Crown
The world never loved us
They look at us as though we are foreign in our own home
Being black and a woman has us crying when will it be over
They look at us once again as though we don’t belong
If not in this land, where?
God said a women’s hair is her crown
But he never specified which woman he was talking about
They looked at our hair and they laughed and said it needs to be fixed
They made us want their hair
Their hair was more suited for the crown
Oh, how we wished we were born with that hair
They made it easy, Science made it easy
Chemicals would turn our hair into that crown, like theirs
Never mind the damage it would cause to our natural hair
It would make them see the crown on our heads
Maybe we would be as beautiful as them
God needs to be clearer, so we don’t get our hopes up
The crown we have, is that of thorns
No one wants to touch it
Even black men spend money to buy the perfect crown for their women
Maybe it is me, but this crown on my head seems to not reflect the crown they show us everyday
I am black, and my crown is not the one I want on my head
It is a heavy burden that needs to cut off
Maybe without it I can get a better job and more respect
Maybe I can own my body and more

Mistaken identity
They all point and laugh
I look at the fingers point at me
Like a weapon ready to shoot
There she is
Catch her
She will run
Who are they talking about
They repeat
There she is
Catch her
She will run
They come
I stand
They hold me down
I ask, why?
Why do you arrest me?
You are wanted for theft
I don’t steal sir, i said
They say we know a thief when we see one
I say no sir, it is not me
They show me a picture
of a woman who is darker than me
With glasses on
I say sir she looks nothing like me
He says you all look the same

For my son
The sun on my head
My son on my back
This is my life
I work from eight to five
I sit three times a day to feed my son
He is only one month old
I don’t have a choice
The farm is big, and I get 10 Rand an hour
How else will i feed him
The boss will be back soon and ask why I am sitting
They don’t care if you just gave birth
They want the job done
His father lives with his wife
And he left me
I did not know he was married
When I found out it was too late
What can i do
He is here now
I must continue and toil the land
Maybe one day he can own his own land
And have a woman like me work for him




The Zulu man
Stop, stop I said
I love you, those were his words
I love you and that is why I must do this
You need to be disciplined
My wife must know my hand
This is love and you must understand
You married a Zulu man you hear
My heart dropped, and I sang a song
While he was beating me, I sang
It will be over soon,  just don’t do anything to make him angry again
Be a good woman your mama brought you up to be
Maybe this time it won’t be the alcohol
Maybe tomorrow we will smile and laugh
Just be a good wife and bring him his food
Just don’t make him angry
Or the kids will see him beat you again


The monster I know
I saw him hit her and it was everyday
He hit me one day
That was the day I saw her speak against him
Not my child she said
You can do what you want to me
But not my child
That day I lost her
She died on the way to hospital
He was never arrested he walks the streets of Alex
The streets are full of them
They look at you and call you
They want to touch you
The police work with them
The police are them
I saw him yesterday
20 years later he still has not apologized 
I’ve never spoken to him
He too does not speak to me
He has new family now
I wonder if they know he is a monster



He owns her
God created him in his image
He lay down and a rib was taken from him
And she was created
He owns her, and her body is his
He wants his rib back and that’s why he owns her
He lay down and she was made from him
He owns her
Without him there is no her
For without him
There would be no rib
He owns her




Self
My mouth became my gun
My words became my ammunition
The day I said I am beautiful
The day I said I am worthy
Was the day I saw my crown
The day I found my value
That was the day I knew how to walk away





 Dear black man
They said they want the land
I said I want my body
They said they want the economy
I said I want my freedom
They said I am acting like a victim
I said you made me the victim
Black man have you heard the voice of your mothers and sisters
They have been broken and bruised by you
You call for the land and economy to be released by your captors
Yet when the black woman asks to be free from you
You call foul
Day after day we count the bodies
Yet you still call foul
Black man you have failed the black woman and child














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