इ REMEMBER

i would like you to have a look at this poem. i wrote it when i was 20 years old, in 1994, and i had been missing my rural home and childhood where i grew up


I REMEMBER

I remember I was a child once-
Some years ago I loved one.
Year, times I have been happy.
I remember, weren’t there sweet little
Tappy, a friend, I dearly remember him.

When I look back to those years,
I remember the cheerful old ways.
By break of dawn we are at the river.
So chilly and cold we all shiver.
I remember how serene and silver-
The river was as we fetched water.

The sun brightly shinning over Mozi Mountains.
Spreading his sparkling warm fingers.
Over lush green hills and valleys, lingering-
Bright blue mist sneaking from picturesque banks.
We could hear the birds singing up the sky.
A sweet lovely song from far away.
Was it a song of a young man in love?

I remember sitting under our Mususu tree.
A tree as old as grandma Helen.
So immortal like the rock of ages.
Eating from Grandma’s black clay pots.
Pumpkins, yams, sweet potatoes and nuts.
I remember my sister, a garrulous glutton.
Gire, do you still remember that tonnage,
Of sweet eatings, aha I want to laugh-

At how you would brood over everything.
Like mother hen over her little things.
Jealous of any hands, eyes and mouths-
Directed at your tonne of those full mouths.
I remember me and my brother Bernard-
Gourmands were these two little brats.
Aha, so sweet and funny were the times.

I remember playing in dusty fields and paths.
A game of soccer during late winter days.
Rhaka-rakha, fish-fish, bottle dunhu, till dusk.
Never thinking of anything but play.
And like angels in paradise, who was a girl?
All equal- boys and girls enjoying gaily.
Until we were hot and naught from play.

We all swarm like bees for the river.
All that shrieking, giggling, splattering-
Water flown so far into the sky-high.
I remember playing “Chitsvare” in Nyajezi.
At deep sage green “Tanganda” pool.
Ask our fathers they swarm there past.
I remember diving from high above-
Into the cool sweet waters of Tanganda.

Was it
buttered pumpkin leaves and “Sadza”?
goat’s meat, fresh vegetables and Sadza?
“Rupiza” or “Mutakura” from cowpeas?
I remember eating delicious and tasty meals.
Our stomachs bulging tightly and shiny, like honey-
We washed down with sweet sour “Mahewu”.
Cupfuls of sweet sour down our throats.

“Hwai, hwai huyai”, merry sweet little voices were-
calling on young innocent sheep that we were.
“Tinotya”, what do they fear so clear a night?
A full moon wonderfully probing and bright.
Like distant campfires, stars sparkling untiring.
“Mhomhi”, they are all gone to “Mutare”.
The wolves will never come back, not for us.
Do come please, “Chiuyai henyu”.

Trudging, treading, oh to thunder of flying legs, hello!
Bumping against one another, a tiny blot of humanity.
Here we come-, fast, deftly and cleverly.
Oh thin air here! Aha Josephina is caught.
Until left only was Enia, our revered cat.
But no, she can’t go past us.
Yet those times have gone past.

We change fastly, notice, we never!
Swept along the tide like waters in the river.
With nostalgia we admire youths rover.
What if we could go back, we all ponder?
Do the waters in Nyajezi go back, up the terrain?
Like dark flooding waters, big trunk trees and stones-
They make new pools, ravines, beaches and courses.
These scars we have are notices of changes and times-

Roads, paths and places we have gone through.