not just for your bravery,
more than what the eyes of mortal could see,
when the stormy wind approached,
tossing your marriage back and forth,
we saw how you faced it,
standing tall like the Iroko tree,
pushed but never relenting.
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stood by you through the trying times,
when your only son convulsed,
two decades have passed now,
yet the story remained unchanged,
what a woman you have become,
firm, strong yet unrelenting,
you have given life another definition.
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sorrow accompanied her virtues,
now they all reside in your abode,
the firmness of your girdle took them all in,
I wondered each time I peep,
through the cracked wall,
only to behold sweats on your forehead, working through the nights.
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For any man can go through pain,
live with sorrow and die many times,
would I exaggerate that your kind never existed?
far be it,
we live only once on this planet,
many have believed on re-incarnation,
still many think its superstitious,
you will live again like a cat that has seven lives.
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when light shines joy takes over,
through the marriage that was shaken,
and your son that had convulsed,
and the bewilderment of your trust on mortality,
the truth that it never existed,
you have weathered it all,
the first to stand tall and got sorrow defeated,
you are an African woman.
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