A WALK WITH PRINCE WAKO FOUNDATION
June 19, 2019Empowering Girls For a Brighter Tomorrow
October 11, 2019BLEEDING YOUNG MOTHER
My eyes looked, mind saw and heart bled.
Walking down the isolated street, under cold drizzles,
My ears were forced wide open, like a dog sensing danger.
Unimaginable groaning and wailing, one after the other.
From down under, under the dark tunnel.
A new born wailing,
A young mother bleeding
And gasping for breath.
My heart bled.
My mind saw, the heart bled. She was only fourteen,
Living on the street – our society calls them street children.
The dark tunnel was their home, a home that floods as rain wishes.
Standing all round her, were boys and girls – their modest family.
She lay helpless, on the tunnel floor.
Wet as it was, girls nursed her,
Boys kept watch.
Even with my intrusion,
They never left her side.
My heart bled.
Her family – on this street, dreaded that fateful night,
That fateful night she was thrown out of her foster home.
Her guardian had taken away her innocence. This child here now,
A result of that rape by someone she truly trusted – only 14.
Now she lay there fighting,
Fighting for her life.
A child, with a child to nurse.
Children to nurse children, but
Have no place to call home
And nothing to call medical care,
Shed bled.
