Written By: Tukur Ridwan
Tukur writes about violence on women in this rather brilliant poem littered with imageries that leap right out of the page. He models a potent way to join our voices in the clamor for social change. ‘before a woman marked her body unsafe’ is a beautiful read!
safety is now a sun setting at the other
end of a vast sea
a girl’s haven
has been pillaged
her body branded with the labels
of a time bomb
adorned with the buttons of guilt
shame & panic
on her chest
there is a boy who thinks that’s not guilt
he thinks to be tingled is to be pleased
you can’t walk bare in your own room
the windows & walls harbor
burglars of bodies
like camouflaged chameleons
your openings are tunnels
to trauma because the groins of beasts
never sleep they are night trains
your breasts are booby traps
to your peace of mind
you’d be scared to tread downtown
the night is insecure of your strides
the day now connives
with the growls
of ghouls ready
to rape you of your breath
if you walk here
a goat would salivate over your legs
& run after you like tuber
you can’t walk here again
if you stay there
another ape is craving to hop on you
like the nearest branch
you can’t stay there again
everywhere is a jungle
jungle injustice— some men would chide you
for walking free & let their heretic brother
go after desecrating your temple
houses are not homes
to a woman anymore
a roof now obliterates
with the evil of fathers
& brothers in disguise
Tukur writes from a coastal axis in Lagos Island, South-Western Nigeria. His poems have been published in journals including Libretto Magazine, The Quills, Art Of Peace Anthology, Ngiga Review, and elsewhere. He won the Brigitte Poirson Monthly Poetry Contest (March 2018) and shortlisted in the Collins Elesiro Poetry Prize (June 2019), among others.
In 2019, his debut poetry chapbook, A Boy’s Tears On Earth’s Tongue was published. His poems are inspired by existence, ruins, memories, identity and, the inherent crisis, creation and desires.
Photo by Godisable Jacob from Pexels
Eboquills
Related posts
3 Comments
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.
[…] Because we cannot be who we are in a place that sees us as the abominations, because we cannot love who we want to. We become red, hiders, because we do not have a choice, And, even we did, we would […]
[…] it comes to writing love poems, it takes a certain ingredient which when absent makes the poem a gathering of cliched lines. We […]
So much females have passed through in this jungle called world.