Selam Everyone:
Is it June Ist yet? As much as I miss the gangs, I'm a little bit skeptical
on how we are going to be able to handle their withdrawal symptoms. I hope
they don't go into full blown delirium tremens. If you think I'm kidding ask
Aya Tesfai on Dehai's addiction.
With the trend dehai is going, BizeyQeleAlem, it's regressing. I had no
choice but to revisit the old archive and here is what I thought deserved a
second chance of reading. A poem by an ex-dehaian, by the name Zegga. She is
a Senior at Stanford and was every single man's dream (cyber lady) here last
year. If you wish I'm also willing to post what Ghideon had posted here last
year on how he wished-Zegga's traditional wedding be. It was an incredible
description of a ceremony. So was Hidaat's wittness to a real traditional
wedding she attended in her last visit to Eritrea.
Well here is Zegga's own poem that I thought would be appropriate for a
Mother's Day. ( I know Mother's Day is over, but who says it should only be
for one day. Like Tesfai, I am one that would like to honor Mother's Day-
Every Day.)
I invite you all especially Ermias to read this poem.
Negga
Enjoy! In the mean time I will try to find her poem on "Mother".
I wish Zegga all the best in her career. I thought she was Eritreas Maya
Angelou
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http://mjosa.stanford.edu/dehai/dehai-archive/html/1996/February/0709.html
Look At Me....
ret (zega@leland.Stanford.EDU)
Thu, 29 Feb 1996 12:55:40 -0800 (PST)
Look at me...
I got breasts, butt and lips...
Dropped shoulders and wide hips...
But that does not define me...
Look at me...
I cook, clean and wean....
Drinking coffee and gossiping...
Listening to the wind...
But there is more to me...
Look at me...
Somber eyes, long skirts...
Waiting for marriage...
Hoping for the best..
That is still not me...
Look at me
Limited destiny
Mother of three, sister to thee
A wife to be...
There is more, more to me...
Slave to social norms...
Prisoner of society...
A voiceless pretty thing....
To be admired and acquired...
I am more than what you make of me...
Bloody hands and broken hearts...
All in the name of freedom...
I bore and raised sons...
All in the name of family...
But you have done nothing but betray me...
Look at me...
Remove your blinds....
Your crippling social institutions...
Staunch old traditional male superiority...
Claims to false democratic ideas of sexual equality...
Look at me...
Stare into my eyes...
See my anger and misery...
A second class citizen in my own country...
Invisible in higher industry and political society...
Look at me...
I am standing, demanding, and screaming...
Do not fear my power, strength or militancy...
I am an Eritrean woman with independent dreams...
That is the new me...
Look at me...
Close your mouth...
I will still clean cook and wean....
But when you see presidents, lawyers and noble-prize winners...
That will be me....
Look at me...
And tremble in your seat...
Educating and constructing a new country...
Struggling for success against sexual adversity...
Defining the new me...
Look at me..
With passionate eyes...
See my mind and sexuality...
Throw down your hands...
Struggle with me...
I am not just a woman...
I am your woman...
And there is no one like me...
haftekoom, zega...
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