Mother, Uncle and grandma
beats her often,
they are trying to curtail her
excesses.
No boy is to stand around or near her.
Her every move is to be monitored.
'Ogbanje, worthless.' They call her.
With the rotten and hopeless, they assign her.
"Soliciting gifts and favours from every 'brother' and 'uncle' in the
neighborhood.
Why won't her life be in such shambles."
To change her or mend her?
They've tried it.
The beatings and floggings,
Didn't do it.
Rather, the tougher and more elusive
she became.
She's already formed, the iron is too cold for bending.
She's already sold out, headed for destruction.
Your holiness and piety
won't get you a second hearing with her.
Best counsels and advice; she's past listening.
She laughs at the tricks of the boys,
She calls them "yesterday things."
At 14, she's sultry, she's cunning.
A master at the game of the 'old ones'
Her escapades are many
And counting.
The delights, of unbridled,
passion-led men.
No mother wants her around her daughter.
"Her influence will wreck your kids too"
Take your seat let's judge her.
Gather your 'stones' let's condemn
the little whore.
Wait! Before we stone her.
Before we recommend stiffer pummelings.
Do you know her history?
Her background and how she became?
The predator was once a prey. A little innocent child.
Once hunted and violated, now she hunts others.
Passions of tomorrow awakened too early today.
By 11years, already abused by 5 older cousins.
Repeatedly, sadistically, heartlessly.
The guardians are too clueless to help:
On hint, they beat her instead of the violators.
Who would speak up again and be beaten?
'Where did this wild pea grow?' They ask.
Her environment, did you hear of it?
Her mother had her at 17-a baby born out of wedlock.
Her two younger siblings from separate and different fathers.
Who then will counsel her in 'the way'?
Clustered in with extended family in living space.
All the older ones, themselves no example.
Poverty is too strong in the house hold to notice anything else but
money.
'Everyone should brace up and endure whatever they're facing'-the
unspoken law in the commune.
Then children have to become adults too early.
Oh, the disastrous outcome on this girl-child!
They see her as the Jezebel.
'Delilah is coming!' Hide your sons.
Underneath the schemer, underneath the little rebel.
Underneath the precocious femme fatale persona.
We call out: 'Who is in the garden?'
"A little lost girl!"
Let us go and see her, let us go and find her.
How much can be expressed?
Cry. Cry for the little girl.
Pray. Pray for the little girl.
She's gone past the hearing of words,
She's gone past the impact of beatings.
Hearts, seared as with red-hot iron.
Like a pent up flood behind a faulted dam, waiting to explode.
The measures and harness of her family to control her is useless
to change her outcome.
Tick tock. Tick tock. Time is running out.
Rather than beat her, listen more to her.
Even those who beat her know they're fighting a lost war.
Neither condone her actions or condemn her.
Rather than your many futile sermons,
listen to her vibes, listen, maybe you'll see the solution clearer.
It's hopeless trying to change her.
At 14, the rottenness is this bad?
Let's work with her, let's love her and not give up on her.
While we work, let's pray and pray and pray.
We can find our little girl. It's a process not an event,
so mind you, let's be patient.
For with God nothing is impossible.
[For every misunderstood and mis-labeled girl that has been hurt
and abused in the past, now living on self-destruct mode.]
Don't die now.
Source :David Nwajiuba
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