Toiling in the tropical Sun
Strapped on her back is a young son.
Sparkling teeth trembles as she limps
Shining beneath dry cracked lips.

Her life a dream, covered in veil of guilt.
Not welcomed in her absent husband’s home
Rehema is enslaved, because Rehema spoke!
And a woman is not to speak
Her worth not cows and goats
Even Price of Gold is not  Rehema’s value.

Hold her hands and walk her
Hand in hand rediscovering the world
Rehema’s beauty lightens the word
The world is not rejected you,
Son’s father, a free man has
Delights in chasing harem of concubines

*** is pleasure that she dreads,
Herald from the chop, cut, slitted to shreds
She dwells in nostalgic agony,
Denied her rightful alimony.

Rehema is two decades older
Widowed at teenage, dwellings colder
Denied womanly pleasure
Because it’s a man’s will to leisure!

She Fathers’, mothers’ three kids
Beneath that loud silence of Rehema,
Dwells a crime of honour!
Out of her sorrow,  glimpse of good will emerges
She is worth a life.