her wares on her woven head
her skin is dark
her lips are thick with a natural pout
she ties her kanga but bares her breast
and ahead she forges
they call her mraia,
i call her super woman
she tends her goats and cooks the meals
its in the hot dessert sun but she does it all
they say she is backward
i admire her resilience
while we have all transformed
to the white man's way
she keeps strong
with her fat from the goats
and traditional body markings
she weaves her house and weaves her beads
she walks with pride and holds her head high
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