This poem was sent in by Fikile Gotha from Cape Town.
face knots in agony as i pull yet another knot from my bush
you'd swear every strand had a head of its own
conspiring to tangle my nerves in its entanglement
but still it keeps me black
so please mama don't let me slip into whiteness
don't tame my blackness
relax, i don't need relaxer to straighten my hair
The Congolese hairdresser shakes her head in exasperation
"sisi why is your hair like this?"
The hot iron burns my ears, the ladies give me looks of disdain
still it keeps me smiling
keeps me black
The knots are gone, the strands are long
afro is glossy, got them white girls wishing they were a little kinky
i smile as my hand slides through my strands
it keeps me black
the cock crows and i groan
the afro is gone and the kink is back
"sisi why is your hair like this?"
It’s the daily grind, keeps me black