Hair panic

I wake up from another weird dream,

My hair has fallen out.

My ends are so broken they need to be chopped off.

My hair has turned frey and in a freak custard accident is all matted together.

Just another night in the life of an African girl

Our Women

Our Women

Our women became the men they wished to marry.
Out in the land of desperation where the promise had been so bright,
Where the sun rose every day without ceasing, and our skin glistened a dark, luminous color in the sun,
There where Idi forced men to do things unspeakable, there where women saw untold horrors!
And there was great weeping in that land.

Twenty seven guns later

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