Dear Mama Africa, What has happened to you, Mama? You used to be so beautiful, making us proud across the world. Can you still hear us, Mama? I’m sorry for these heavy words, but I’m glad to see you haven’t lost hope. What can we do to ease your pain, Mama? I dream of a day when my children won’t go through the struggles we face. I wish for your health and strength to return. We, your children, want to care for you, so you don’t have to suffer anymore. I long to hear your songs again—songs that calmed us at night and inspired us by day, To work together to make you healthy, happy, and beautiful once more. Mama, hearing from you would give me hope, A hope that would spread to my brothers and sisters. With one love, we would stand united in that hope. Forever your child, kyejjusahenrictyra

MAN AND MONEY Money, Placed a price on my freedom, Stolen in broad daylight, My voice silenced by its weight, A currency that bought my speech And left me voiceless, mute. Helpless, I stand, Watching as money blinds every eye, Its flaws go unseen, unnoticed, Yet they stretch far, reach deep. For the sake of money, I’ve seen days cloaked in shadow, Harassed, bruised, beaten, Still, I must stay silent. No one is safe, We are all prey, Victims of the savage hunger That lurks behind its gleam.

Highlighting the role of the practice of elongating the lips as a rite of passage and culture identity in the Mursi tribe in Ethiopia.