A Zambian, a Kenyan, a Moroccan, a Ghanaian, a Malagasy, an Indian and a Slovak walked into a cafeteria. Sounds like the beginning of a joke, but this was what our lunch table often looked like at African Leadership Academy.
All women are some man’s wife. Except one’s mother. There exist no other women. This poem is really written for a man. He must see other men’s wife (the only recognized women) as his mother. Because potentially all other women except one’s mother are objects of desire (like another man’s wealth). This poem is really written for a man, for only a man can be a Pandit, an enlightened one.