By Frank Olunga Khange 6 months ago

Bright bright day

The sun high in the sky

She left home for work

Her two month old baby on her back

Promising her children food

She was the mother and father

Her husband spirited alcoholic

He was just a father by title

Since he cared so little



Life was tough

Everything was rough 

Hide and seek was her daily game

She beg on the streets

Her crying child was the bait 

The sun was scotching 

People were watching

Watching keenly like a lion 

Ready to bounce on its prey 

Maybe she had forgot to pray



Slowly the crowd formed 

You are a thief they shouted 

You make streets unsafe they continued

You steal people's children

Shouted even barren women 

Her tears were never enough

Enough for her to swim away 

Her voice was a drop to the ocean



She robbed me claimed another woman

She stole my husband

She is a prostitute

She deserves to die 

Were the accusations

The child starring at her mother 

As if to say mom let's go home 

The crowd the mob rained

Rained slaps from left to right 

The baby was never spared 



She never answered back 

She was not a foolish dog to bark

She swallowed the pain bitterly 

The mob was praising their heroic deed

They murder the sole provider 

The sole protector

But who cares?

She died in silence

Was her baby guilty?

But who cares?

Maybe it was mistaken identity

Maybe it was never her fault

She was a mother 

She was a caring mother 

She was just hustling



What about her children at home?

What about her baby ?

What was his mistake?

What was the proof that she was guilty?

Who was responsible for their death?

Where was God 

Surely where was God?

Who will feed her husband and children?


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