Migration to Freedom

Strangled by the umbilical cords of traditions and rituals
I wanted more than being able to cook salted fish and plantains
More than my arranged marriage and being an obedient concubine
I heard of America thousands of miles away where freedom is given
Freedom is free, freedom is expected, and freedom is real
From birth they said I was free, yet my mind belonged to traditions
My womb belonged to my husband and my body belonged to my children
No need for shackles my hands and feet were bound by watchful eyes
No need for masters, I had many-husband, children and villagers
I was enslaved by all, people, place and things

I left the warmth of my ancestor's wombs craving
For this cool breeze of freedom and liberation
Snatching liberty because she was there
Marinating in my ability to soar, to dream, to just do anything
Basking in the ownership of my body, my womb belongs to me not him
I did not have to feed my master, my husband. No!
He feeds himself because I am free and liberty is my trophy

I quicken my strides to this place where liberty stands tall
My body shivering with excitement, I look up and there she was
A collage of my future, I am not just a wife but a leader of change
I'm not just a mother but a school teacher, a nurse and a politician
At last, I have no owners, I own myself
I have migrated to freedom

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