Life Support
She was oxygen; transparent.
Like the infinite windows she wiped
Infinite like the spiraling stairs she scrubbed
Which made her dizzy looking up
She was oxygen; invisible.
Discounted, dismissed, disregarded
By the poisonous pontifical people
Parading in a pool of palpable pride.
She was oxygen; lethal.
Eloquent and valiant and beautifully strong
Vivacity screamed through her humble mumbles
When provoked into a monoxide of carbon
She was oxygen; exposed.
PPEless without a choice in the matter
Wiping diseased desks deprived of protective clothes.
Did her voice, her opinion, her thoughts not matter?
She was oxygen; everywhere.
In escalators, corridors, toilets, canteens
Molecular, with her mop and bucket and netted hair
Anywhere deemed dirty enough to require a clean
She was oxygen.
She was exploited and unappreciated
If they were on life support, maybe then
They’d cherish her diligent efforts.
Maybe then they’d treasure her time.
Maybe then they’d prize her profession.
Maybe then they’d realize.
She was oxygen. Crucial.
By Jacinta-Maria Wajero
About the Poet:
I wrote the poem for a competition called ‘Poetry for Good’ which was run by a cleaning company with the intention of celebrating key workers. I thought it was a great initiative, so I entered. I won £300 and publication on their website alongside some articles in magazines and a newspaper. I got to read my poem out at prizegiving, this was both terrifying and exhilarating. I was shaking! Once I got started though, I just really didn’t want to mess up: I thank God because I didn’t! I really enjoyed performing my poem and it made me realise that it’s something I’d love to do more of. As for myself, I’m the second child of four in a small section of a huge Nigerian family navigating the tumultuous journey of adolescence in Britain. I eat traditional food, wear traditional attire, listen to Nigerian music. I’m also a poet. Right now, the two are quite complementary. I’ve struggled a lot during lockdown to be creative and crafty, but poetry has been perfect for allowing me to express some immense thoughts in a small, meaningful and sometimes entertaining format. I’m young and a student and an extrovert and a netballer and a catholic and a lover of crotchet: I think I finally have the courage to add poet to this list too.
O God, we thank you for the life of Edmund Rice.
He opened his heart to Christ present in those oppressed by poverty and injustice.
May we follow his example of faith and generosity.
Grant us the courage and compassion of Edmund as we seek to live lives of love and service.
We ask this through Christ our Lord.
Amen.