Strong – weak African woman

Strong – weak African woman

 

I am a strong – weak African woman.

A woman who yearns for love and support for completion,

A woman who gets comfort from one glance cast her way as it serves as reassurance that she still has it.

I am a strong – weak African woman.

See I say weak after strong because I embrace my weaknesses more than my strengths.

I gather my strength and wisdom from the weaknesses and imperfections that taint my idealism of perfection.

But from those weaknesses I know that I hail form a nature of a different kind.

I come from a generation of leaders,

I hail from the flat, dusty lands of the Transkei.

My ancestors escaped the wrath of the great Shaka,

Like blind mice they scattered about and trumbled upon the mountainous lands of the Transkei.

They foraged for food but still had their dignity.

They didn’t fit in anywhere because they were different.

But like soldiers they pushed on and bred a line of fine young people who gave birth to the next generation and so it went..

See if my DNA is of some pure quality of fineness and such stamina

How then can I not embrace my weaknesses when I know that there is some hereditary strength in me that can overcome such weaknesses without me even making an effort?

Strong – weak African woman, I am

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