my personal outcry against gential mutilation... |
If my vagina could speak it would wail and weep in anger and in sadness for the violence and the intrusion, It would speak of ancient rituals, girls changing over forced to know mutilation of the clitoris a symbol of man's celebration, my vagina wants to scream from the force of the goat's horn as it pierces through, but who will hear my cries? for I must be silent, traditions insist, I wear my mutilation with pride. I cannot hide from the lust of ancestors, I must not speak of the scars nor allow my anger to fester and rot like the flesh ripped from me it is their one guarantee, my vagina pulsates with the burdens of my design with the weight of centuries with the suffering of women before me. I am blinding mad my vagina will never reach its climatic purpose who will hear my cries? for I know the fate of my daughters. My heart breaks and I want to rise up a protective shield, yet how can we survive being ostracized? Cast out, alone with no village...no people. If my vagina could speak, it would speak of horrors, of despicable pain the shame.... rushing through--I am helpless for it is what will be... our anguish they cultivate for honor's sake, they asseverate. |