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Sep 11, 2013

To you: Yemen's Maiden Child_ Poetry

Posted by Wendy Ewurum  |  at  5:18 AM

Psst🙊 i haven't gotten the hang of posting from my tablet yet so at the bottom of the post something odd is happening with my signature from my email sent here. (IGNORE).

I sat down to write something for my fellowship group last night but I could not because of what I read about early yesterday morning. I'm sure you've also read or heard about the #8yearoldbride who died on her #wedding night in #Yemen from internal injuries. Some people can read these things and move on after a tsk or two. Not me, it sits with me. It chews me up. I couldn't even eat yesterday. Every time I looked at my 7 year old my mind got more horrified and bewildered.

So when I had to sit down for my quiet time, my spirit was anything but quiet. I was angry, i was grieved and I still am. I cried for this child, and wrote for her:

Read her story

To you: Yemen's maiden child

Today I truly cried 
For this child crucified
The classified cultural experience 
Traditional rights THEY cry
To me the rights of paedophiles
Committing murders most foul

What manner of men can these ones be
The kind that get off on screams
What a way for ungodly orgasms
Brought on by raptured spleens
The innocent forsaken,
To satisfy a nations's greed

Is it the will of Allah,  is that what the Qur'an taught?
To sell your child for silver, the same as Judas did
explain to me oh MASTER
For I do not understand, nor can my mind comprehend
To birth a child for slaughter
For the crave of paedophiles

My heart is deeply grieved, for that child I'd not have known
In place of fathers without care, perpetrators of the same
Brothers who've sold their souls, for just a little dough
Mothers with little voice, for they too are childhood bride

My heart bleeds for the little ones, who go on everyday
Who will never know a conscious, free from ravages of pain
These ones are born to servitude, for macabre  demonic deeds
What is the curse, what is the blessing, to die or stay alive

I fear for millions more, more left without a voice
Suffer the little children, living on in piercing silence
Suffer the little children, to die behind veiled shrouds

Cursed be the head of that paedophile
By whose member she dies each night
Mayhap this is the blessing, maybe a cruel reward
To have robbed a fate worse than death, 
goodbye oh maiden child

                                                                          By Wendy Ewurum

PS! There's a little line in this poem I've used as a tribute to an up and coming Nigerian writer who based hislatest novel on the child trafficking practice in Nigeria which recruits children for the sex trade and child labour market. Book title:  WITHOUT A VOICE.

About the Author

Most know me as the author to Fabulosity Reads and in actual fact, that is the previous name of this blog. I have since then moved my books to a Wordpress self-hosted blog so that I can have a place to show a different side of me which I am equally passionate about and that is marketing and personal development. I hope you will love being here, watching me grow as I share and learn. My highest hope is that we will grown and learn together in all disciplines affecting our lives. I'd LUUURRRVE to hear from you, so don't be shy...


  1. How heart wrenching! I still have chills reading your poem. We can live in the light and we can live in the dark. It's horrific what people in darkness will do. I pray for the light to wipe out the darkness.


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