Source: Speak (http://speakjhr.com/2013/05/the-rising-cost-of-safe-transportation-in-dar-es-salaam/)
Its late. I’m tired.
I want to go home.
I squeeze through the door
No seat to be found.
We be bumpin’ and grindin’
total strangers
smashed together
lives
colliding
sharing sweat
swaying to the rhythm
of potholes and missing shocks
Half-asleep, I stand
one eye open to not miss my stop
Then I see you.
You’re calling, “Acha Victoria,”
waiting, then “Victoria Haina.”
Dada Conda.
Ninashangaza!
A woman!
Strong
Brave
“Makumbusho! Mwenge! Tegeta!”
Your voice is confident.
You stand firm against the
pushing
shoving
the sardine-smashing
the masses who fear you
A woman, in a man’s place.
But you are so much more.
I see you and I see beauty.
I see a better future.
I see equality.
Hope.
Dada conda,
wewe nina ajabuu.
Ride Fierce Racing 