Ever tried to break gold?
With your own bare hand?
Did you feel the stiff?
Would you trade gold for brass?
Or try to sweep it like some grass?
Gold is a precious shiny stone-not a straw
My body –this body you see, is gold
I may be short, small or huge
With my lappa stained with red palm oil
Swamped by crying babies in the kitchen
Or, I may be carrying my bucket,
Filled with pepper, okra, and corn
But with these, I put food on that table
Can’t you see my courage shines like lightening?
I may be walking in mud down waterside
But I smile like the bright morning sun
Does that make me a cow that you beat to move?
Why do you knock me down and gang rape me like hungry thirsty leopards?
Am I sweeter than honey?
And you laugh like its funny?
You are a coward, cruel and shameless
Why do you keep me dirty, barefooted and broken?
Are you afraid of the radiance in my eyes?
Do you fear the glamour of my beauty?
Are you struck by the size of my hips?
Are you intimidated by the glow of my breasts?
Now, hear me young man
This body you beat is gold
Are you a beast, built to beat a woman?
If you’re Hercules, why not jump on a lion in his den?
Is your prowess fixed for women?
But, you don’t know gold
Someday, you’ll see a real man
A man with arms thicker than yours
And chest wide for my body
With voice that vibrates like thunder
And hands stronger than oxen
But, he, like a knight, guards me like a queen
And guess what?
This man, my man, is a real man
Like a miner, he knows gold, even in dirt
And he cleans it up and sets it in a jar
And marvels at the splendor-enjoying his treasure
But, you poor man
You were blinded by a ghost
Never knew the gold you had
And boy, oh boy, when you know this
I’ll flee like a bird and be gone
When it hits your door, you’d be done
Left with your over grown ego
Chained in a cage
Stuck with your rage
Did you think you could dim my bulb?
And blow my lamb
I’ll still be on fire
When we pass you by
Rolling your wheelbarrow on the outskirts of duala
You’ll hide your face behind the mountain’s back
With your torn-out trouseurs, asking in your coloqua-da my woman there?
This face you bruise is gold
This nose you punch is gold
This arm you twist is gold
This leg you sweep is gold
This body, my body is gold.