Memoir of an African Girl

A member of a large household,
A part of a school of siblings,
Born by an incapacitated father,
And a struggling striving mother,
She was raised to know insufficiency,
She was raised to believe life gives only meagre portions,
She scrimps on everything no matter
how more she desires,
She watched her father toil and labour,
She watched her mother assist with
as few as available,
She wonders why an ailing man
and an inadequate woman,
Would desire to make a large family,
Even the necessities were herculean to provide,
Let alone asking to go for a funfair ride,
She would love to have her hair in different styles,
Or at least nicely packed in bunches,
Adorned with ribbons and clips,
But that's too much a luxury to ask for,
She attends a nearby community school,
Dressed in outgrown patched uniform and a pair of slippers,
She's set every school day to write and learn,
She sits with excitement in dilapidated buildings
crying for prompt help,
She's trying to make sense of what's been delivered,
At night she's crammed in her tiny cosy little space,
On her way out to the farm,
She sees the 'iron bird' flies over her,
And wonders if she'll ever have a space in there,
Her father was called to the land beyond,
He had defied death so many times,
But this time around it had a firm grip on him,
This caused a separation from her siblings,
She was taken far away from home,
With woven luggage, she travelled miles,
To meet her extended family,
Hoping to find a home in another place,
Hoping to find happiness in a different space,