You should have seen her.
Though she arrived late, she managed to keep her cool as the ushers looked around for a chair for her to sit.
In her yellow and blue beach dress, she pulled the plastic chair, wiped her eyebrows and sat, cross-legged as she watched the proceedings- upper lip sliding behind her lower teeth.
She didn’t make it to the podium, judges say she couldn’t cut it – not enough hips, not curved enough, tall enough, eloquent enough,educated enough.
Yeah. Her names?
She prefers to keep them, but we already know her anyway, she’s around us everyday.
She the cleaner at office who begs you to extend your feet so she can pass her wrag. She’s the woman in the neighbourhood who once carried your seven year old body. She’s the maid whose ground-nut meals you enjoyed when you were six. The same girl you…
View original post 216 more words