She has breathed poverty,
Raised under the merciless shadows,
She has gone to school on a shriveled stomach,
Wearing a tattered uniform,
Splashing into the rain bare foot.
Trotting to school soaked to the bone,
Why didnt you carry your umbrella?
Why are you not wearing your shoes?
Her friends once asked her.
She felt her face giving away the shame.
Shame of mothers failure to provide her,
Like a womb that fails to support its embryo.
After school she would return home,
To the smiles of a waiting hopeless mother.
While days passed by,
Till she passed her Primary School Leaving Certificate
And got selected to a secondary school.
But alas! Poverty came gushing at her.
No fees, no notebook, no uniform.
Her dreams slain by the cold sword of poverty,
But destiny can never be denied they say,
She could not believe her ears when one day,
Like a God sent messenger,
Age Africa pulled by to pay her fees.
That generous offer which settled,
The flickering light of her dreams,
I personally witnessed her graduating,
From the Chancellors College.
Today she has returned to her village,
Like Joseph returning to Israel in the Bible,
She has returned as a princess,
She has come to change the story,
In her community.
Our future indeed, is not defined by our past.
Educate a girl child, they say,
You educate a nation!