Commodity, poetry by Mahbuba Shama at



written by: Mahbuba Shama


I am a commodity
When my parents cannot feed me
I am given a spouse
Education stopped
Playing stopped
At 13, I am a child virgin bride
The dowry is heavy as I am raw untouched
He will feed me

I am not allowed to do outdoor work
Child, husband, and cooking are my
If I cannot produce a child, I will be divorced
If I object to his physique, I am raped
If I fall sick, I am scolded
Husband’s infidelity is also for my dark skin
If I divorce, I am cursed.
I should dance before him
In the scorching sun, I am in Burkha
Men look at us, so I must be veiled

Son and daughter will one day leave me
The husband takes me as his responsibility
2 night physical in a week
Everyday food, dress, and shelter
My heart is vacant of me

Still, I continue because
Who will feed me, who?

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