You Will Not Know Until She Tells You
A poem by Stephen Emmanuel Ogboh

She wakes by 4, cooks the Okpa* And her husband’s lunch She leaves the house by 6 Takes the first bus to Onitsha Bus arrives 7:30, rush hour She walks from Head Bridge to Tarzan The Okpa on her head, her baby on her back Baby cries, she feeds him He wants to play, she ignores him The sun is angry, sweat soaks her and Baby He cries and cries and cries A black guilt spreads sadness into every corner Of her heavy heart But it must not reach her face — her mask The smile she wears for her customers He falls into a tired, troubled sleep, wakes Cries again, they rest under a Neem tree And play, and laugh — a real laugh.
4pm, she runs for the bus to her village Vehicles horn, large carts push, people shove a The Baby’s howls are bangs on her eardrum And knives on her heartstrings In the bus they sleep out the long journey.
Home at last Baby baths, feeds, surrenders to a lullaby She carries the Bambara nuts to the mill Cooks supper, baths, eats, sleeps.
Midnight, husband says “give it to me” She says “not tonight please, am tired”
Next morning, she’d miss the first bus Whip-marks on her arms, neck and back She’d ask God to remind her who a woman is And Baby would cry and cry and cry.
*Bambara Groundnut Cake, a popular Nigerian snack
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