I used to be that girl Had a roof over my head, but not sheltered Prison was my abode Tied down by a ring on my finger And a piece of paper Signed away my liberty Sealed it with a kiss I guess not everyone Who kisses you loves you Remember Judas Iscariot? His kiss marked the fountain-head Of Jesus' tribulation As your kiss marked mine My smile was beatific When all around me was pulverizing to dust I counterfeited contentment Comforted myself with false hope That things would change Yet getting worse and worse by the day Reposing with the adversary Night after night Fights, arguments and misunderstandings Were a daily norm Time is yet to heal What immeasurable, intense Torture has done to my heart A tattered and marred spirit How can time mend Feelings of loneliness and betrayal, battered and molested Is there an end To this barbaric nature Hard indeed it is to accept When the one who's supposed to love Becomes your greatest nightmare I was there Walked in these shoes Shed the same tears Learnt the hard way, That I have to stand and fight Fight for my freedom And the independence of my children I found the victor in me And not the victim I refused to be another Statistic of domestic violence I drew strength from within And walked away.
Dedicated to every woman living in abuse. You are not a victim. You are a Victor. You just need to draw strength from deep within and recover your dignity. You are not alone. Many walked have walked this road with you and survived although some were not so lucky. But you are alive, arise and walk away! Stand up and fight for your freedom. You were created to be loved and cherished and not abused. I love you.... whoever you are.
Just once in a while It's good to recall, to revisit the past, to promenade down memory lane Not for nought but Just to wonder Just to ponder Even though there can't be comprehension or clarification On how things went asunder How all went awry And life took a wrong turn Plans dissipated like an apparition right in front of your eyes Dreams scattered like a profusion of puzzle pieces Just when you presumed the Picture was coming together.
Just once in a while It's perfectly acceptable To wander and wonder To travel to the realm of dreams And ponder What might have been What could have been What almost had been Not for nought But to feel that magic One more time To see those smiles One more time To hear the laughter One more time To resurrect those emotions One more time
We ambled the streets of Harare Meandering aimlessly Fleeting past wide-eyes scanning us enviously Hand in hand we walked into the restaurant Leisurely on Second Street Our hunger awakened Our appetites heightened At almost closing time With no one in overtime mode A signal that here we could only dine on another day
Joina City was our next stop Up the lift right to the top 'Closed' it read at the coffee shop Into the nearest chair I went flop! Though hungry, we gabbed non-stop By and by we regarded the clock It chimed 8 o'clock And sadly, it was time to go home
Busy and noisy Were the streets of Harare Jabbering crowds, kombis hooting Hawkers, vendors or is it hustlers now - Calling for buyers or just huddled to pass time No chill in Harare Picturesque like a dream Surreal… Hand in hand we dawdled In despair for a hot meal
In the shimmering distance Like a mirage in the desert The neon lights read 'Creamy Inn' Something to calm our rambling bellies At last… Nippy evening air hit our souls 'Ice-cream tastes better at night' I said 'I can't believe I'm having ice-cream' He said We frolicked Hand in hand we danced past faces painted with adoration 'What a handsome lover!' They probably thought: My delectable younger brother
Wrote this after one of my visits to Harare, Zimbabwe in 2017.
Our love affair is too beautiful to be hidden Whenever I'm with you it's clear I'm smitten This romance is unique it's story should be written Tie my heart to yours with a silky soft ribbon You have the keys to my heart Only you can open it Across my heart, write your name in crimson The entire world should know Let them watch and listen to this rhythm, the rhythm of our love unspoken Our love is real It will remain unbroken This love is rare It is too beautiful to be hidden.
Sometimes we dig graves for ourselves Then we cry wolf when they start swallowing us Time and time again we go back there Infact we don't even make any effort to stay away We make merriment, ululations and joyful noises We dance and celebrate by the graveside at all hours of the day Then we cry wolf when it swallows us Deliberate recklessness The stench of death we ignore The warning signs blaring The signals loud and deafening We eat, drink and make Merry at the graveside Without a care in the world What consequences?