The chuckles that filled our echoing kitchen,
Faded like the lifeless bubbles of water on our hands,
All thanks to my uncomfortable question,
“Should he be there, would you like to know him,
I mean Him?” I shyly asked.
I was testing the barriers of cultures my ancestors laid bare.
Careful not to slip, effortlessly I did just that, right there.
“Show me your medical degree first!” her words hit home.
Motivation she gave, yet a barrier she cemented leaving no hope.
It cried out to me unshakeable,
Unbreakable that she is mother and I am daughter.
African at home, modern outside,
Yet who am I to think we could be greater?
Fenced I remain by her barrier line, even with my degree,
I’m still just Daughter.