I spend the nights counting stars,
Because my hut has no roof,
My frail body stinks,
Because my kyphotic spine won't allow me to wash it.
My stomach hurts and plays sick tunes at night,
Because of hunger.
I silently pray daily that I died sooner,
Before my body suffers too much.
Loneliness eats me every day and night.
Have I no children?,
I do.
Six of them I have,
With blood and sweat I raised you,
Sacrificing my own happiness for you to live.
Yet today loneliness consume me as if my womb never carried fruit.
My children, have I become evil because of my age?
This ugly old wrinkled body has a heart that loves all of you dearly.
I'm just old not evil.
You grew up and left me alone.
None of you looked back,
At your old woman who single handedly guarded you with all she had.
Does my appearance embarrass you?
I was once young and energetic like you,
Working hard to raise you,
My pride and joy.
I'm just old not evil, my children.
My wish is to see all of you,
To show how much I love you before I die.
Oh how I wish your children,my grandchildren would never read from your book,
I wish no parent to suffer the way I did because of you.
Remember me, my children.
I'm just old not evil.
I met an old lady two years ago in Gwanda, Zimbabwe whose six children had abandoned her. It breaks my heart how some children have abandoned the parents that raised them. This poem is inspired by what I felt in my heart when I listened to her story. May we never forget where we come from