Covered by the scars of yesterday
Wounded by the words of the tribe once perceived superior
I am an African
I am a product of yesterday
I speak English with no accent; I paint not myself with make up
I look like my foremothers
Skin so dark, body so thick you can never mistaken me for anything else but African
Defied what was and is biblical I fell in love with my kind
Had my foremothers talking, had the congregation praying, had the pastor praying
They disown me but still I remain, the African child who is lesbian
I am now defined by my sexual preferences and not by the grounds on which I was born
they hurl at me words of insults in the hope that I will run to the Adams of the world
They harm me, rape me, stab me saying they want to give birth to the woman in me
when was I ever not a woman?
They wanna cure me they say
How does my love for the Eves of the nation translate to my being ill?
I am not a health status, I am just a girl who fell in love with a girl
Congregations cast me out as if I am some demon, saying I am an abomination to mankind, that I shame the African culture
I am an un-African they say
they hurl at me words of insults in the hope that I will run to the Adams of the world
They harm me, rape me, stab me saying they want to give birth to the woman in me
when was I ever not a woman?
They wanna cure me they say
How does my love for the Eves of the nation translate to my being ill?
I am not a health status, I am just a girl who fell in love with a girl
Congregations cast me out as if I am some demon, saying I am an abomination to mankind, that I shame the African culture
I am an un-African they say
Amidst the insults and curses
I remain
African
And then
Lesbian
©S Phohleli 2012-03-19