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The rights of the girl child

A poem by Chepkoech & Beatrice

 

Rise up rise up world,

To the predicament of the girl child,

So young, so tender, so beautiful,

Her innocent smile warms the hearts of many

And yet she is the only one so downtrodden

 

She is commanded by all

To cook, to wash,

Do this, do that are the orders of the day

Was I born to be a servant at home?

Was I born to be a punching bag at home?

Was I?  Answer me, was I?

 

After twelve years of my life,

You tell me I am ready to be married

An old man pay dowry for me

Yet I do not know what marriage is

Just for the sake of money, you sold me.

Was I born to be sold?  Was I?

 

Rise up fathers, rise up mothers.

Rise up brothers and sisters

And take action to stop this ruthless behaviour

And educate the girl child.

 

 

 

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