An echo is head in the midst of a large crowd, a voice of a woman like a piecing spear sings in praise to the leader, her wrist twists to the sound of the drams, dusty fill the air as her feet trod the bare ground. An entertainer she is known, an object she is perceived. Before dawn she puts her baby on her back, cooks plan porridge for her sleeping children, she hastens to Joins the long queue as she ties her chitenge Hours she awaits to cast a vote for a leader in the plea to the promise of an improved life….., The sunny makes her sweat as her sucking malnourished child screams due to the heating rays of the sunny. But little is she recognized no matter how she puts in, always she remains a victim, a victim of pain, her tear are never dried. She faces the consequence of the conflicts she doesn’t even understand, she flees for her children safety in the dark, heavy, forest, her body is too tired to run any longer, due to her 8 month pregnancy ,yet with a heavy bundle, she seeks peace and refuge while on the way her 13 year old child is abducted repeatedly raped, her 10 year old son turned into a warrior with disability and death as a reward… Oh! peace !peace! peace prevail for mother Africa, peace prevail for mother Zambia as she casts her vote for a leader, a leader chosen and lead by God Almighty