Hilda Fish,

Thank you for sharing your song. I wish I could hear it sung by you and by other sisters throughout the world.

Thank you also for your Mar 05 - 06:38 PM post. It reminds us all that woman are talkin 'bout serious business- not frivolities like the right of women to cut & dye their hair if they want to [though that made up example may be real somewhere and if real is symptomatic of women's lack of kuchijaculia
{KiSwahili for 'self-dertermination'}

In the spirit of sisterhood and peoplehood, I'd like to share two African American poems written by poet/author/playwright/essayist Langston Hughes, who truly made his mother proud..

MOTHER TO SON *
Well son, I'll tell you.
Life for me ain
t been no crystal stair.
It's had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up;
And palces with no carpet on the floor-
Bare.
But all the time
I'se been a-climbin' on,
And reachin' laandin's,
And turnin' corners,
And sometimes goin'in the dark
Where there ain't been no light.
So boy, don't you turn back.
Don't you set down on the steps
"Cause you finds it kinder hard.
Don't you fall now-
For I'se still goin', honey,
I'se still climbin'
And life for me ain't been no crystal stair.

* this should also be "MOTHER TO DAUGHTER"
****

QUESTION AND ANSWER
Durban, Birmingham,
Cape Town, Atlanta,
Johannesburg, Watts,
The eart around
Struggling, fighting
Dying - for what?

A world to gain.

Groping, hoping,
Waiting - for what?

A world to gain,

Dreams kicked asunder,
Why not go under?

There's a world to gain.

But suppose I don't want it,
Why take it?

To remake it.
****
And everybody shouted
Harambee! Harambee! Harambee!!!! *

KiSwahili for "All pull together".