African woman, black woman.
Glory in the colour of your skin
For it brings your frame to life
Adding a touch to everything you do.
It glistens in the sun,
Yet it doesn’t crack.
It causes heads to turn
And young men to lose focus.
They who feign hate for this heavenly gift
Go down on their knees when you turn your back to them
And pray to God,
That He gives them a skin like yours
So that they can attract
All of humanity’s attention
Just the way you do.
African woman, beautiful woman.
Your beauty emanates
From deep within your heart.
But that doesn’t mean
That it is restricted to just within.
For your outward beauty
Surpasses that of the lilies growing in the open fields.
You radiate the beauty of the triune God.
He took His time to create you,
Moulding you into perfection
And finishing it all by crowning you
With enough eumelanin
To distinguish you from all your contemporaries.
African woman, strong woman.
Your arms have toiled in ways your mouth dare not speak of
While your back has carried them
Who were born of your own womb.
Your feet have treaded the most dangerous places
In search of a means of survival
For the children you have borne
And the family you so cherish.
Your eyes have seen the worst.
They have watched your young ones die
Of mysterious plagues.
These eyes have watched your father and his kinsmen
Sell you off
As though you were but a common commodity,
Exchanging you for a few cattles and some cups of rice.
African woman, happy woman.
In spite of all you’ve been through,
You have managed to remain strong,
And healthy too.
You always find a way to stay
Through every hardship and every storm.
And when more come
You gird your loins,
Preparing for it,
And go through it with a smile.
You don’t smile because you enjoy your pain.
You smile because you’re hopeful it’ll one day go away.