On the occasion, our teacher Mrs Ngnasoke wrote a beautiful poem in which she pays a tribute to those "iron-mouthed angels" but also expresses her own emotions, hopes and aspirations

“The Spacecraft they do not belong…”

Once upon a time, a pink wave with an angry skirt on roared

So harsh, so brutal, so violent…

As no one dared listening to her claims, she grew huge thus delivered

Loads of pinkish, though passionate other tiny waves she begot

The King’s cart, Mama Wave first threw on

Houses they burnt, public spacecraft they broke

Hunger strike they went on

What the hell dared they risk their souls!

Co’z just hubbies and daddies’ property they were

Weak and feeble, pink and fragile

Good for porridge, pies and pudding

House chores caretakers, they were tagged

Then they roared, so powerful more waves they tossed

With Ms. Pankhurst as Mama…

After thousands deeds, did they lastly got “the thing”

Just the right to poll? Got it right! Just the mere suffrage

Which birthed dramatic brain damage? Don’t ask!

Force-fed to hide body damage? Won’t tell !

And next? Male pants were tagged stronger, smarter

More fit for “rights”, they thundered!

Thus, we worked, but yet they earned

Pinkish toiled and snared…

Bluish clinked and lengthened talks in pubs

Gosh! Second waves rose, resolute, forward they roared, even louder

Feymen-ists, we heard not just, but also did we see?

Strikes they stood, marches they marched

Speeches they summoned

What for? Pay same - they sounded!

Taboos they dared dress off, and named it “Made in Dagenham”

They argued, men astonished, marveled they henceforth joined

Waves kept roaring, that ship a halt needed