Must I till the soil until I tire?
For a penny, must I dig my hands deep into the mire?
Must I always work to get my heart's desire?
Like others, don't I deserve to be called sire?
Must I bear the brunt of another man's tongue
For Kobo and Naira, just to live long?
On my sagging shoulders, must I carry a truck full of bricks
Just so I can buy another wick?
Must I do someone else's dishes, laundry or even mow the grasses
Just so I can dish out my soup in broken glasses?
Must I continue to be servile
And work harder because I'm agile?
Must I be overly meticulous in cutting the silk and purple
Just so I can sew the pieces together and look like one of 'the people'?
Must I sit in expectation and wait to receive
Such that when I'm forbidden I refuse to forgive?
It doesn't have to be work, work, work all the time
Such that idleness becomes a crime
There is another way in which nobody has a say
And death, is that only way!
By Jubilee Adaeze Azubike
