Judith Nelson Dilday

“Mama: You men kill me. You come in here, drink your beer, take your pleasure,
and then wanna judge the way I run my “business.” The front door swings both
ways. I don’t force anyone’s hand. My girls, Emilene, Mazima, Josephine, ask them,
they’d rather be here, than back out there in their villages where they are taken with-
out regard. They’re safer with me than in their own homes, because this country is
picked clean, while men, poets like you, drink beer, eat nuts and look for some
place to disappear. And I am without mercy, is that what you’re saying? Because I
give them something other than a beggar’s cup. (With ferocity) I didn’t come here
as Mama Nadi, I found her the same way miners find their wealth in the muck. I
stumbled off of that road without two twigs to start a fire. I turned a basket of
sweets and soggy biscuits into a business. I don’t give a damn what any of you
think. This is my place, Mama Nadi’s.”
― Lynn Nottage