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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