Why is she only saying something now!
Poems selected by Alex Gwaze (Curator)
The 16 days against gender based violence campaign are over. But, when it comes to men, women, love, and #mjolo – “aluta continua”. Therefore, to remind all romantics of the ever-present danger of #domesticsilence this Valentine’s Day, I thought it best to get some poets to illustrate the main features of the other side of love.
Bullets Of Perseverance
BY BATSIRAI E CHIGAMA
Legendary National Arts Merit award winning poet, author and performer
Even in the breath of our mother’s prayers
we are not safe
these are warriors who fight to keep
their church uniforms untainted
they tell us to stay, until
they get a call from the police,
“I’m sorry ma, your daughter was shot dead
with bullets of perseverance last night”.
All The Frequencies We Know To Be Love
BY CHIONISO TSIKISAYI
Canopus award & Bulawayo Arts award winning poet, writer & performer
A stain, a bruise
a burst lip breaking the fast of silence
in some living rooms
the room divider is a body thrown
over a table
a remote controlled fist channeling
rage
And there is no cancelation for this monthly
subscription
of
domesticated abuse
Televised in statistics and toll numbers
a lost agenda in a gendered war
of a woman endangered
of girls turned into prey on every pavement and
at every bus stop
The rainstorms that arrive at the convenience
of violence
A showering of
grainy images
and the crackling static of a radio
And all the frequencies we know to be love
distorted to wailing siren.
It wasn’t rape
BY HOPE MASIKE
National Arts Merit award winning ‘Princess of Mbira’ songstress & writer
Do you know how old I was back then?
Fully grown women should know better, no?
Do allow me to correct you, it wasn’t rape, because I was wearing a short skirt,
And it’s not as if he held an axe and forced the alcohol down my throat,
And when he started kissing me I didn’t stop him; no kiss leads to prayer,
It wasn’t rape because I didn’t scream, I only said stop a few times,
Do you know I watched him struggle to remove my blouse,
He didn’t tear it open, he took his time and I watched,
And only when he got to my brad did the alarm ring,
He is a man! Of course he was already aroused,
It wasn’t rape because I left it too late,
It wasn’t rape because when he got in,
I started enjoying, heaving, moaning,
It wasn’t rape because even after,
I still spent that night with him,
It wasn’t rape because after,
I kept quiet for too long,
Let me correct you,
It wasn’t rape.
16
BY ZIE NYATHI
Poet, gender activist & ethnic accessories designer
Born under the curse of Eve
It was already decided
This would be man’s world
I, woman, would never be good enough
I, woman, would never be strong enough
I would never be entrusted with power
I would never chose my own destiny
As written, it shall be taught.
I will submit to my husband
If I don’t, he can claim me anyhow
Stale traditions have forever crowned man God!
Like Mary, without choice
I will conceive to please God
I’m doomed to the feet of god.
If I dare dream of conquering the world
It’s not my qualifications demanded on display,
Show me your skin, ass breasts, legs
They demand I splay!
It’s a man’s world after all,
Boys will be boys they say.
In all this, through it all
I’m still a woman, a warrior
Every single day of my life
I’m not 16!
MUD Journal 
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