
She’s the eyesore of gazing eyes
Lost in darkness and running from the lights
The cloud that mustn’t be seen in the skies
A sheep straying into the wolf’s might
Jenny Komla
Nicknamed Jenny Sinner
She’s adjudged a chronic fouler
Norms defaulter
A glowing butterfly clapping its wings into fire
They call her
When the fingers of the evening sun beckoned
She entered her revealing dress in calling for diamond
And passing by a group of self-holy ones
They say;
‘Hey, look, the whore and chair lady of whores. She can’t love a man.’
‘Oh! Whores do not love!’
‘And whores do not raise family too. What a condemned sinner a whore is?’
They all laughed and mocked her
Then she stopped and walked closer to them
She smiled and said;
You don’t blame me
My heart is too damaged to carry love
I have no heart for love
My life has been too battered
I have no dignity to preserve nor shelter
You judged me a sinner
But I rejoice when I’m judged by sinners
Knowing that Heaven watches us all.
From a far distance, you judge me
You know nothing about me
Yes, I’m a sinner
And everyday I beg for the Lord’s mercy
At 16, I was orphaned by gunmen who took away the lives of my parents
Where you there
When three men raped me almost to death?
Where you there
When the pastor I thought I could call a daddy turned me into a sex machine?
Where you there
When at 17, the pastor’s wife threw me out into the street to suffer?
Where you there
When my mates were in school and I was roaming the streets begging for meal?
Where you there
When I was gang-rapped by thugs who had me pregnant?
Where you there
When at several times I attempted to kill myself?
Where you there
When I almost lost my life giving birth?
I am a single mother
Who would marry an illiterate single mother?
Oh you self-righteous ones
Which of you here is holy?
Mr. Patrick, here you are with your wife
But three times you have had me in bed
James, doesn’t your wife satisfy you in bed?
Because you spend longer hours of the night with us in the brothel.
Angela, your husband works his ass out to make you happy
Here you are with a little boy; Oh he does it better than your hubby?
Ella, you’re looking all holy
Have you gone to pick the bra you left in Tony’s room?
And as she turned to walk away, she added;
Hey John, I trust you’re coming to pick your ID card you left in the brothel.
And as she walked away
You could appreciate the meekness of silence.