By Leah Gitau
You confine me into cages,
Small as the match box
Too tiny to turn around
Or even exercise my body
Who will be my voice?
A breeding machine I have become,
Producing large litters of piglets
My body becomes weak
My health deteriorates
Who will be my voice?
Taken away from my mother,
The only companion I know of
At only 2 weeks of age
Rendering me motherless
Who will be my voice?
Subjected to stress and fear,
Hunger and thirst the order of the day
Painful mutilations I bear
With no pain reliefs near
Who will be my voice?
Full of anxiety and stress,
I bite the metal bars
Tails of fellow prisoners I feast
Not knowing what else to do
Who will be my voice?
With no shame and care
My pork you love to tear
Praises you give for my delicacy
Fed up with you preyers
Who will be my voice?
