between women
Poetry (Unnamed)
by Adriana Nordin Manan

Early morning arrives; a new day is here,
In its bitterness you start working,
Without a hint of hesitation.

The children have been awaken,
Told to bathe; please hasten,
But hush as you move,
The man of the house is still asleep,
Disrupt him from slumber and havoc shall be wreaked.

The morning meal is on the mat with frayed edges and holes,
Enough for five mouths which don't include yours,
Your nine-year-old is told to take not even a bite,
But to instead feed her brothers aged eight, six and five.

Beads of sweat slide free,
As you shoulder tasks so heavy,
The sun burns in its entirety,
Your company while slaving ever so tirelessly.
Come rain or shine you have things to do,
Even when with child there is no rest due.

For all that you do,
Nothing belongs to you,
Your honor is based on how he chooses to treat you.
Your body is his whenever he wants,
To claim ownership a mistake,
Your life would be at stake.

They say that you are from the Third World,
One where their rules don't apply to you and your kin.
The world where scissors and string,
Simple art supplies for their children,
Are all that you have to bring yours into this world.

The idea of justice is foreign,
To you it's non-existent,
To them it holds true,
Except when it comes to you.

The thought of a better life
Is merely a dream for you,
Not a degree, a Lexus, not even a house or two,
Oh no you see,
Running water will do.

The burden of life
Full of strife so rife,
Shouldered so numbly,
Tearing the heart incessantly.

You are a woman of the world,
Your story the same,
When in Tamil Nadu, Lagos, Sumatra or Bahia,
We call you our comrade; mother or sister,
But to you we carry the role of neither.

Erased from our minds, thoughts and decency,
Your story will never cease,
Its end we do not see.

We do not see it now,
And we will not see it then,
For how does one see,
When pulling blinds down tightly?

You are a woman of the Third World-

And for that your voice remains unheard.