A woman’s cry

By Duduzile Ruzive

Scars are like ancient paintings

They tell my story

A story of pain, misery and despair

At the alter we promised-

Til’ death do us part

But down the years your hand fell on me and that split us apart

A future once bright we thought we needed a shade

But now its dark clouds and rain and love in the fade

I used to have your back like a bag

But YOU turned to a Boxer

And I as your punching bag

For all your misery I am to blame

You beat me up but all remains the same

I remain silent in the face of the law inside feeling lame

Different lipsticks on your lipstick

You know how to play your game

And you don’t even hide it

Even the shame

Gender based violence

A moral decay that has been normalised in the name of culture

Made a norm, accepted its vile form that we all seem to conform and accept

Gender based violence

Like Coronavirus

Every day we have new cases

Knows no boundaries, it’s all places

Gender based violence, til when should we not speak

Should it be when it reaches its peak?

And sucks us dry like a tick

Rise up Africa, rise up Zimbabwe

Rise up women

Let us all fight to end this scourge