As the morning peeps through the blanket like a baby rising from the cot, so does the rural woman gets up from bed to gain possession of her day.
A task she carries, a responsibility she bears a wife to a husband, and a mother to children.
Her hoe she takes, her bare feet soaked with morning dew carries her to a land of green fields, but, she returns with a basket of plenty.
Father will eat, children will eat, the joy of the rural woman to see her family blossom with health. Aaah! Mama rural, the hidden treasure from despised eyes!
But misfortune hunts for her unblemished soul, attacking the pureness of her blood with HIV/AIDS. Ooooh! A victim of ignorance and simplicity
To dust she returns, rubbed of her glory by the ravaging cruelty of this dreaded disease. But her eyes will be opened, and her mind enlightened if passion conveys strategies to prevent or live with the enemy of her soul and forever remain the trunk of her society.
Aaah! Mama rural, our despised treasure leader of tomorrow.