The other mother

If you keep us as servants.

We will raise your children

With love,

We will educate them in warm hands

Until their minds burn.

So when you think us passive and domestic …

Remember …

We are the quiet revolution.

We are the silent teachers.

We are the other mothers.

Written for Miriam Jumama Zondi

Origami Dreams

Excuse me Mr

You’re sitting on my

Origami dreams.

You’ve squashed them flat

With your big squat self.

Paper crumples under

Your weight.

You could have warned me

You know –

When I was building them

That words are heavy.

Tell me,

Did they make you angry

My intricate paper origami?

If only I’d known

I’d have built

A fleet of paper aeroplanes.

This time Mr …

I’ve had enough

This time Mr …

You’ve torn out pages!

And besides,

I’m not your paper doll.