STRIP ME NOT!!!

A poem for all Kenyans affected by the stripping of women in the streets, for all the men who think they can define “provocative dressing” by any measurable terms,  for all my Kenyan sisters fighting this uncouth practice, and mostly for the women who have been stripped off their clothes and their dignity. We shall overcome.

STRIP ME NOT!!!

 I briskly walk,

On phone I talk,

This man he stalks,

I fasten my pace,

I glance at his face,

It has no grace

Like a hawk eyeing its prey

Oh God protect me I pray

 

I look aside

Another man my looks he chides

Disgustingly beholding me

From my head to the feet of me

I look behind

Another man is looking at my behind

A circle of men begins to enfold me

Oh God,  how  sad my fate shall be!

 

Yes I watched the news yesterday

How they stripped my sister in the light of day

Claimed her skirt was not up to their standards

So I wore my jeans to please these bastards

I measured my skirt-length in centimetres

How short is too short a skirt?

My hips width I know in millimetres

Oh God, how tight a pant is too tight?

 

God it’s like a movie

How he grabs me this bully

Another screams “Strip her!”

Another grabs my phone, ha!

I beg for freedom, on my knees I bend

But these men on me they descend

Pulling, pushing, my jeans unbuttoning

Oh God their blows are demeaning

 

One, two, three seconds, and I will be naked

One more moment, a video-clip of this be circulated

One woman tries to help me, one man grabs my bra strap

One leg is now bare, the onlookers begin to clap

Take me LORD, how will I live with this shame?

Passers-by jeer, why do they think this is a game?

My pride is stripped, my honour is gone

Oh God, tell me you hear my groan

 

The breeze beats upon my naked flesh, I try to rise

I see my accusers, the punishers of my dress size

They disappear as they came, their lesson they have taught

Assure me LORD, to justice they shall be brought

My tattered clothes, the little pieces I pick

My other sister covers me with a shawl, we barely speak

We are torn, but shall live on, shall live to fight these pricks

Oh God, not another of our sisters shall be stripped

 

 

 

 

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