Back straighter than a flagpole,
gait steadier than an anthem;
kilos of kindling top her head,
a jerry can in a hand,
Mama carries a machete in the other.
She carries a baby on her back.
Mama carries the future on her back.
She carries her country, men.
If Mama were to tire (don’t worry, she won’t),
if she needs to take a rest (don’t worry, she doesn’t),
would you carry Mama for a time?