MALAWIAN WOMAN

You smile, I cry,
I live, you die.
I eat, you don’t,
you’ll starve but I won’t.
You marry, me too –
for love, but not you.
I drive, you walk,
I write, you talk.
I eat, you don’t,
you’ll starve but I won’t.
You’re bought, not me,
you’re owned, I’m free,
you’re bruised, I’d leave,
you stay, I grieve.
I eat, you don’t,
you’ll starve but I won’t.
You mother, I try -
mine live, yours die,
mine read, yours can’t,
yours safe, mine aren’t.
And I eat while you don’t
and you’ll starve but I won’t,
and I live while you die
Yet you smile while I cry.

I wrote this poem when I was on a nine-month work placement in Zambia and Malawi in 1993. The rural African women I met were strong, resourceful, resilient and so warm and welcoming to me, even though the differences in our cultures and wealth were vast. Women’s Weekly published this poem in 2003 if I remember correctly - which I probably don’t!