WHAT I'M AFTER...

Beautiful people,
They don't come easy you see,
Real beauty,
That which does not age,
That which stands the test of time,
Beauty that the whole world can attest to,
One heard by the deaf and seen by the blind,
That is what I'm after.

Your soul so bright,
Your eyes like a light,
Purity is what I'd use to define you,
Carry it in thine hands,
And tell the world that I have,
Known your inner person,
That I have been blessed enough,
To see that which many are yet to set eyes on.
I have seen you.

I have seen your strength,
I have seen your courage,
And witnessed the life of  a girl in an environment as harsh as the one you live in.
 Viewed as a piece of property,
Piece that measures wealth,
Like you would an animal or tracts of land.
They forget that you alone,
Are the most expensive piece of wealth man can know.

You possess value that can't have a price tag.
Not to worry dear child,
Strength is measured by the days you have seen the rising sun,
While on your two feet as you face your enemies.

Carry your pot of water.
However cracked,
it carries its contents home and fills a bigger tank.
Everyone sees the crack,
You do too,
And I as well,
But that does not deter you from being who you are.

Fighting everyday to stamp your existence,
To people who merely view you as a piece of property.
Fight on dear child.
You.
You are what we are after.
 
The African child.
She holds all hopes of days unseen on her cracked heels,
Her snow-white eyes, her curly hair, her dark skin, 
Rich like her continent.

The beauty in her beads, however heavy,
Transcends to all those around her.
This is what I'm after.
Her ability to take each scorching sun,
And turn it into a bright day full of hope.
This is what we should all be after.
Is it not?

I am blessed,
That I have known you.
Heavens have favoured me,
For I have on me dark skin, curly hair, cracked heels and full lips.

I have seen my reflection on the mountain river.
The blue sky surrounding my face,
The sound of the flow surrounds my imagination,
Filling it with hope for a new day.

As the river flows,
And as the forests remain green,
I shall be the African child,
One whose predicaments are numerous,
But her faith remains as strong as the deeply rooted Mugumo,
Deep and wide,
As vast as the Lake Victoria,
And as refreshing as the coastal coconut trees.