There is nothing that breaks my heart than not being able to just hang with my family and in the SAME ROOM, SAME SPACE...geez but now, everybody is constantly on the hustle, trying to chase that paper. Maaaan I'm tryna trace back to life BEFORE the DIASPORA... I HATE THE DIASPORA... Its taken my friends, separated me from my family but... It hasnt been all bad tho... I mean hey I get label clothing sent, accesories and stuff... WOOOO... #Sarcasm... I dont give a damn about material things... I wanna create and recreate memories with those I grew up with.. Those I love. Heck I wanna go for long walks in Greendale ringin intercoms and galavanting around H-town acting toooo coool.flip its been so long.. #emo.
Ok NOSTALGIA creeping in...! But as we grow older, the responsibilities that come with that are just too insane.Well sometimes. I mean hey, #It is wot it is But now, there is this misconception that when our dearly beloved brothers and sisters seek greener pastures the land far away is filled with milk and honey. tsk. if only we knew half of the **** people go thru JUST to make ends meet.
We read and hear stories of drug overdoses, prostitution, credit card fraud, cougar and madhara (older men) relationship just to get it all together. It breaks my heart. Thinking if s*** didnt hit the fan and we were all HOME and you know it was all ok How beautiful would it be... *SIGHS*
So nehu... the following poem is a mixture of wot I've been thru,wot my mates have been thru and wot I think a number of people that have left home go thru wen s*** hits the fan...!
Life in the Diaspora by RuTendo DeNise (.R.)
I sit by the window cigarette in one hand...
Thinkin how am i gonna get by in this foreign land...
I crave maguru aibikwa ne my mother...
Going for long walks playin Mbira with my Father.
I light up the cigarette and deeply inhale...
I've lost so much weight i look deathly and pale.
Overwhelmed by nostalgia my eyes begin to rain...
I'm losin my mind i swear i'm going insane.
As tears burn thru my cheeks... i'm convinced i won't last a week.
I yearn for my mother... there's noone in this land that i can call brother.
I'm an invasion to their nation...
Victim to their barbaric segregation....
Oh how i wish Dai ndime wamwe....
Tiri tose mu ZIMBABWE!
*gee now i feel so home sick* :'(
mOre lOve...!
.R.
