The day after the first rain
but I call it the day of pain
how can I wait in vain
when I know this cup will never pass me by
I could hear the other girls scream.’oh my’!
Am I going to die?

I heard the horn
Alas it was my turn
In my stomach I could feel the churn.
They lay me bare on the palm fronds made to be a bed
While my mother held my head.
And then my legs were spread.

The old woman picked up a blade
But unlike the saying of the spade
I no time I was slayed.
I screamed out so loud
I saw my flesh I could say a pound
Did my mother not hear my cry sound???.

It was the most private part of my body
And yet the torment was not over a dead body
I was alive and screaming
They placed some herbs that was steaming,
On my bleeding wound and began stitching.

Oh God!!!,will the day after the rain ever end?
I wished this will be my end.(tears)
Who would have come to my aid
I have nothing for the person to be paid.
The world is so evil as they said.

This can not be right
But then I don’t know my rights
I am too weak to fight.
I am a woman mutilated
Full with pain and agitated.
I need,I must be adjudicated.

By shidoo vingil