Rouse of Widowhood

'Women like myself!' I saluted to a rousing reception. 'We are here!' the women chorused. I stood in the middle of the women. They gathered around me on all sides at the square entrance of Eke-oha market. 'Women like myself!!' 'We are here!!' 'Women like myself!!!' 'We are here!!!' They responded a third time. 'Today, the wind has blown, and we can now see the behind of the fowl. We now know that these white rulers do not like us, and our men do not like us too.' 'Who bears nine months of labor pains?' 'We do, we do.' 'Who bears all the labor of housework and raising the children?' 'We do, we do.' 'Who tends the men and nourishes all their desires?' 'We do, we do.' 'Women like myself!' 'We are here!' 'We shall not be counted. We will not pay tax. We will not pay tax because we bear the children and we bear the fire of kitchen coals on our palms.' 'It is the truth, it is the truth.' 'Where the rat eats is where it falls. The men must tell us why the hen must always be spread-eagled for the randy cockerel.' 'Today, we will burn down the courthouse, and we will have their red caps.' The women needed no more prodding. My last statement had aroused their anger.