Malaika’s nightmare – Poem
By Fortunate Hove
She stands on the other side of the fence
With her sight crisscrossed by the diamond mesh
Separating the pure from the mess
The unmistakable chocolate shade
Punctuated by the big eyes, pale
Reminiscent of the full moon
On a once clear night sky but invaded by clouds gloom
Malaika stands on the soil of America
Not a gringo
Not a wet back
Then why so heavily clad
In a land merry and glad
Many days regalia make you a rainbow
Layered like a warrior with quivers for many a bow
Panga in hand
Where no banana plantation lies in sight
But distant lights of suburbia bright
Ready for a hunting expedition
Malaika wields a panga
Sharp and ready
Who would have thought
A princess turned warrior
In a distant foreign land
From the bush velds of the Mother Land
In a warrior posture, Malaika stands
From hours of mindless banter, she foams
The streets have a baptism for the innocent
A joint, snort, jab, from rookie to inviolable
Malaika stands strong , panga in hand
Another DSM-5 -TR unhinged.
Your Elders have yet to hear of this.
What will they say about your records? in the village
In lands where life thrives only through tillage
Now you are a statistic; there you are, royalty
Tried and true
But alas!
Malaika, dada
Why is the panga your companion?
In a land of no rubber plantation
A land devoid of leafy banana thickets
Miombo Woodlands is nowhere on site
Nor the Okavango for some Carne
Yet Malaika wields her panga
Ready to shank the first target asunder
Your hunting grounds are the streets
Paved and clean, but Malaika is on the hunt
Clad in boots, jeans, and a woolen jacket
Malaika walks confidently from the blurring fence
Determined to find the prey of the day
The hunting ground is the streets paved and clean.
Malaika, the warrior princess
Looks the world squarely in the face
Malaika’s courage defies her tradition
Woman! A man is your safety
Malaika, why be a friend of the night?
In which the streets exchange safety for battlefields
Malaika, Malaika!
What did Mama Ngina teach you?
Did she say, like Warianga, throw judo kicks?
Are you a little orange or a strawberry?
Did she not say that the Motherland is safest?
Malaika, your boldness among strangers
Defies the tenets of Ubuntu
Malaika, you were made for the palaces of Africa
Adorned with gold, ivory, and venison
So why the shed of the tree for habitation?
Why deny the birds the benefit of refuge
In their habitation without your snore
Snoring under the stars blurred by night lights
Malaika, stray dogs sniff your habitation
They pass you by as unworthy prey
Malaika, that palace is waiting
In a distant land, beautiful, open-handed
Have you shunned all the strength of your kind?
The Kandakes, who led in battle
Vanquished foreign armies
In defense of the Motherland
The voice of Kandakes is calling
Calling on you, Malaika
Malaika, rise from your ashes
Like the phoenix
Take up the fight
Fight for ubuntu
Your Dignity
The Kandakes are calling
Relentlessly from distant graves
“We defended African pride
With command and control
Against those across distant ponds
Now Malaika takes the baton
Of strength, love, and care
Fight a better fight of your time
Not a bloody panga on innocents.”
“I hear you o, my mothers
Beautiful inside out
Valiant in fight
Victorious!
I salute you
I have read of you
I hear your call
I am trying to respond
But strength is zapped out of me
I do not wield a panga only
I am armed to the teeth
With every arsenal necessary
For street survival
May I tap into your strength
To see another day
Before tomorrow becomes a pie in the sky
I need ubuntu and panga as well
The paved streets lead to hell
But I know of heaven
O, my soul does not depart
While I sleep, the double sleep
The double sleep of my new tribe
I was once a proud Kikuyu.
A proud Bantu
A proud daughter of the soil
In my right mind
A mother well taught
In the ways of my mothers
Values that are purer than gold
O, Kandakes.
O, Mama Ngina
I have not forgotten
The wealth of knowledge
The power and simplicity of life
That has held my reins
Stopping further sliding into an abyss
Your teachings have upheld me from the unimaginable
When my friends left and never came back
As if the paved streets have teeth
That chew and swallow my kind
Like Jonah in the belly of the whale
They are spewed in other lands
But your teachings, mama
Have been my only stay
Stopping me from entering the whale’s belly
Hear me, daughters of Africa
I was once a jewel
In the hands of family
In the eyes of colleagues
In school
In the workplace
In marriage
In society
The joy and admiration of many
Then one day
One day!
I traversed the seas.
I flew on the wings of an eagle of the wind
And landed where Mama Ngina would not
Mama Ngina was nowhere to be seen
For a season, her words carried me
For a season, I thrived
Then suddenly, mama Ngina’s words
It faded like the morning dew
Until a drought of her counsel set in
I fell my sisters
I fell
Flat on my belly
Then through the cracks
I slipped through
Through counsel, strength
And lastly, the will to stand vanished
In the face of strong winds
Strong winds, irresistible
They blew my listless will
Into the belly of a shark
Today, I stand
Panga in hand
It is a token
Of the greatness of who I once was
I am not bloody thirsty; my sisters
It is just the memories
Signified by a lethal blade
Held by feeble hands
But signifying a strength
Once cherished yesteryear
Sisters, I am still Malaika
Beautifully broken
With parts hard to mend
And the most beautiful part
Lost irretrievably
Lost to the deception of love
Powdery love
Expensive though
Fueled by the abundance
The abundance of the greenback
I entered the tunnel of the love that kills
I loved innocently
Never wanting to disappoint
The submissive daughter of mama
Where tradition or value played second fiddle
Nobody told me that the rules are different
Naivety drove me
Naivety in playing the game where many do not last
I have remained shell-like
I joined the tunnel were money flows unabated
I was a queen
Malaika for real
I sat on a shaky throne, my sisters
But I felt secure
The bank staff saluted me
As bills rolled into my account
No job could beat such royalty
From African queen to a ruler of foreign lands
I wielded the power of womanhood
Sisters
Power is sweet
The power of love
The kind I had never known before
Shrouded my space
Only to wake up
To a body wilted
Wilted by love that is powdery
Powdery love for a queen
Hooked me up, and nothing was left
High as a kite, I floated
Suspended in the belly of a shark
Suddenly, the king with powdery love vanished
The shark did what a shark does best
I am ravaged by my sisters
Tell me, my sisters
Am I coming back or going forth?
Can you hold my hand?
As I debate with ants and gnats
Under a tree with no promise of anything
Except for curses for unpaid debts
My sisters
Will you love me unconditionally?
As I need you as long as I live
I did not wake up with a mind like that
It started in school
Very junior grade
Those caring for me
It taught me perverse things
Hard to say for a child
Taught in African
traditions
Where some things are never said
Consequently, I was bewildered
From my experience at school
At the hands of one staff member
Who could I tell such vain stuff
Confused, I remained mum
Believing in the good girl syndrome
Mama Ngina was not there
Nowhere near in distant places
And her words irrelevant in a new world
I fell at that point
The point of silence
With pain and confusion
O, Africa, give Malaika a voice.
Or else she will be fodder for cracks
Or a queen with no kingdom
Yet, greener pastures are for fodder
But she grazed in the wrong field
Will the Motherland smile at her
With missing teeth
And scars from the paved streets
That turn into jungles at night
Where she has strutted with no crown or cheers
Africa, the Motherland, Malaika needs you
Receive her with no judgment
Then her soul will have a consolation
Africa, many of your children, are wounded
Receive them back with hands oiled with the cacao butter
To soothe the pains of mind and soul
