This is who I do this for

The unborn generations

And the children I bore.

Let me remind you who I do this for

My matrilineal line

Those who’ve gone before.

This is who I do this for

The women that never made it to school

Or to the factory floor.

Let me remind you who I do this for

Those that died in childbirth

Too far from the hospital door.

This is who I do this for

The women in domestic service

Still getting up to scrub the floor.

This is for the hustler,

The worker,

The housewife,

Bespectacled academic

High-flying executive

The married one

The single one

The one grieving

Longing to hold

Her departed child

one more time.

You deserve more than a day

Of celebrations

You are worthy of celebration

For all time.

©️ Nomathemba Pearl Dzinotyiwei