To girlfriends girl power and all things girly and great.
To the feminist flame ablaze in all of my twenty first century girls….
I just got some glorious news that I’ve got to share:
“Who runs the world?”
So this is me raising my fist in solidarity and unity
With my sisters across the universe.
And joining in the singing and chanting for victory..
But then suddenly, I’m reminded about something that’s amiss.
Yes I hear you telling me how I should roll it and control it,
But just barely,
Because I also hear the grunts of my swaggeriffic brother
As he says how all he wants me to do is to “shut da fuck up, bend over backwards and forwards for my pleasure, gyal.”
Telling my younger sisters and brothers
That it’s ok for women to be treated like objects.
And that there’s nothing wrong with a he
If when he sees a she even before she opens her mouth to speak he’s stripped her in his head,
Giving her in that split second a mental makeover:
From human being to kenchic meal.
So because of this and other things,
I wonder if this is really the better day you try to sell me,
Because if so, why do I still hear rape jokes uttered to raucous laughter,
Like it could ever be funny for that mother or daughter?
And why is it that in some places, going to the toilet even means risking defilement?
And in others, the ugly act is covered up and justified, with beads of beauty,
As if calling it culture somehow makes evil sanctified?
And if you don’t get what I’m going on about, try googling “risking rape to get to a toilet” and “Samburu beading practice.”
Before anybody here misquotes me or misunderstands me,
Not once did I say that man is my mortal enemy,
I’m just a girl trying to fight a mentality
That leaves more than enough room for the term “woman” to mean mere commodity
So, once again, a salute to all my feminists in the house,
Who share in the victories and gains that we celebrate.
Beyonce says we finally run the world and that’s great,
But as we chant about how we rule the entire sphere,
Let’s not forget that some of our sisters in our own hemisphere
Are running as if from wild animals
And because of them, I have to say,
That maybe, we actually have a long way to go,
Before we can truly run this mother*
© wanjiku mungai