Child Bride? By Toni L.A. Cross

 Grossly underage marriages are far more common today than you think. In situations where the husband is much older, there is often frequent domestic abuse.

Some Facts:

  • More than 100 million girls in the developing world will be married during the next 10 years.
  • Although the definition of child marriage includes boys, most children married under the age of 18 years are girls.
  • While the practice has decreased globally over the last 30 years, it remains common in rural areas and among the poorest of the poor.
  • In Southern Asia, 48%—nearly 10 million—of girls are married before the age of 18.
  • In Africa, 42% of girls were married before turning 18.
  • In Latin America and the Caribbean, 29% of girls are married by age 18.

  • Excerpt taken from

    What are you doing

    Taking that life?

    What are you thinking

    This child is your wife?

    What do you want

    To control someone else?

    Why do you beat her

    With your leather belts?

    To crush a spirit

    Is that your game?

    To rule over silence

    A person with no name?

    Then don’t call it marriage

    This dictatorship

    Just call it slavery

    With an overseer’s whip


    Think That Thought? by Toni L.A. Cross

    A skittering concept
    Born of emotion
    Grows in rapid
    Hectic motion
    Breath caught
    Fills void space
    In a frantic race
    A second
    An unguarded neutron
    A moment of brilliance
    And darkness revealed
    A thought
    Just a thought
    And a nation froths
    They simmer
    They boil
    Deceptive calm
    Broken survivor
    Who dared to think
    That thought

    Take a few minutes to hear her story…

    There are more than 30 million slaves in the world today. 
    More than at the height of the Trans-Atlantic slave trade.

    Please take the time to experience one victim’s journey.

    Click the map below:

    Slave in Waiting… A Multimedia Poem by Toni L.A. Cross


    She peers out of broken glass

    Smeared with all that’s crude and crass

    The glass is like her life

    It cuts her with its knife

    She is old and broken

    Her pain pools unspoken

    No way to escape

    This endless rape

    She peers out with shattered eyes

    Heavy with tears she never cries

    The tears are like the curtain of beads

    Strung and hanging useless weeds

    Tacky and in the way

    Like the thought that she should pray

    If God did care

    She should see Him somewhere

    Won’t He send someone

    To undo what is done?

    Does no one know

    That she is here down below?