For me this is the core of me,
The definition of my existence
The chains of my redemption scratching away at the paper
So I
Sing for my freedom
For the hopes and dreams that I dare not speak
For the ,fantasies and wishes
That books embellish in me
For the release of the demon that
Was once called me
So I
Sing like tomorrow is already here
Thetracks of my tears I no longer see
Encrusted by makeup for someone who was once here
Yes Ising like I do for there's nobody else
I must sing to remind myself that I am still living
In here
So I
Live like a mango tree
Providing hope for the season
The greenwhite and yellow that
Red never conquers
We were born similar
Maturing in different pods
Our seeds planted separate
Only to blossom in the same field
So I
Sing about my loving you
Like a mirror reflection taken
In different generations
Yours is the smile that frames my face
Yours is the picture defining in my frame
So let's define forever
And give it a new meaning
For the ending is only written by the mind that dreamt it.
The house is just the way mama likes it. Old like her but graceful. The clutter is a bit too much for me. In each corner there is either a table or something from days gone by that she cannot let go of even though there is no room for it. The house is dimly lit by a single candle and an old tattered bible sits on the table guarding. The guard waits in the other room as Dante and I take a look.
It is nothing like I remember but again it has been a couple of years since we got married. Mama and aunty Towela had looked dashing. They were so happy so excited and their usual bossy selves. Mama could not stop fussing that my train was too long and that someone jealous would inevitably trample on it and cause it to reap. Aunty Towela, the usual voice of reason kept mama away from the already anxious bride and placed her in charge of the bridesmaids. I felt sorry for them because mama cannot shut up. Ever. So imagine how many times their hair had to be styled and restyled that in the end it was not the hairstyle that I wanted them to have that they ended up with. They had corner buns tightly twisted that their foreheads reflected the sun. You could not tell whether they were smiling or had some plastic surgery done. I could have gone all bridezilla but it was my day and Mamas and aunty Towela. I could allow them to be equally excited even if it meant altering small details like a hairstyle.
Aunty Towela on the other hand was mellower. She was calm and collected as always and did not fuss much. Her beautiful crystal lined pink chiffon maxi dress defied all laws of nature. She looked dashing. No protruding belly or jelly arms to betray her age. Whatever corset she was wearing kept her secret firmly tight. But despite her calm nature, I could tell something was wrong. Something that she was not telling me. Every time aunty bent down to reach my train she winced as though in pain. I should have asked if she needed anything but as soon as shespotted the look on my face, she summoned all inner strength just to keep mefrom querying her. She hid her secret as firmly as her corset behind a wall of a pre lecture before walking down the aisle.
‘You are just beautiful. Every bit of you is magnificent andthat man loves you like God loves us. I know because he has God in him. Agenuine love for God that he is going to transfer into you and make you stronger. You remember I told you, you were still precious?-‘she coughs and turns aside to find the aid of her arm. She is not well. That is for sure. She turnsback to me and carries on fussing over my dress ‘but mwana watu you must remember to never go to bed angry with each other. If you cannot face him, then praythat God can relieve you of your anger before you sleep. Men are very funny. Oftenthey do us wrong without even knowing they have hurt us- sit down now and letme fix your veil- but you can never make excuses for them. Let him take responsibility for what he does wrong. Enjoy your sex life mama. You know what we taught you ka?’
‘Aunty Towela!-‘
‘Aunty Towela where!-‘she pokes me playfully on my shoulder ‘it will happen tonight so what are you talking about-‘she laughs out loud and then pauses behind me. At that moment we were both looking at the mirror. Smiling. Not a word was spoken for about two minutes but our hearts knew how grateful we were to have each other. To have shared so many memories through the good and the bad. Thandie had relocated to New Zealand with her new husband but she was already on her second pregnancy. Talk about be fruitful and multiply eh! Towela was a content woman even though living with mama I am sure had its moment oftorture, it was not anything she was not already used to. ‘You will be so happy in your marriage I promise you. Just remember there is power in a praying wife’
‘So what do you think we should do with the place? Put it up for rent?’ I ask my husband Dante. I do not really want to throw away the memories even though I have not had the strength to check it out since it was given to me. Chisanga does not contest to what should be done so long as he gets something out of it. My husband puts an arm around me and squeezes me tight. Well first thing first your mother always wanted the baby to be a combination of both their names so start with that. I smile despite my emotions. It has not been long since the double funeral that has sent the town ablaze with whispers. Even Chisanga confirms the rumours but I do not believeit for a moment although her poem insinuates it. I have read it over and overand refuse to accept it but I harbour no judgement.
Aunty Towela died following a rough battle with ovariancancer soon after my wedding. It had been the worst time for all of usespecially mama. She could not cry or eat. All she did was hold this poem inher hands and rock back and forth in her armchair. Aunty Towela’s ashes had been given to mama. She buried them under the small mango tree of her new place. It was not as magnificent as the place we lived at but it would do for mamas’ritual. Every day for a year she sat outside during the day under that mango tree. If it was raining, she would sit by the window and watch the mango tree. Watchthe value that it held but could not resurrect her friend like it did those mangoes. My once talkative mother had turned mute. Nothing could get her to speak again. It was like the whole world had darkened and would never liveagain. If she was not bathing, she was outside, if she was not outside she was rocking and if she was not rocking she was watching the same tree seeking comfort from it with the bible at her breast. Nursing the pain. Nursing the loss of a loved one. Almost as if she had lost a husband.
She had aged in a year. Had abandoned all need for makeup and flamboyant styles. For what use were they to her without Towela? Hmmm. This world could no longer accommodate her and it showed in each defined line that crossed her face. The hunger strike eventually took her. Her wishes were to be cremated and buried right there with her friend. Under the mango tree.
Now all that is left is this house and them still outside. I do not care for what people say. I will not get rid of it. Someone will stilluse it anyway.
‘Honey, Baby will be called Hazel, Temwaka. Hazel because Ican never prise myself off those eyes of yours and Temwaka to remember the wonderful women who saved my life and stood up for all women. Were they lovers?We will never know but they loved me and that is all that matters’ Dante smiles illuminating the room with those beautiful teeth.
‘And the house?’
‘I will make it a bed and breakfast. Temwakas bed and breakfast. We can renovate it. Remove all this clutter and fix the kitchen up abit and see how it goes. We will also make a beautiful little garden around the area of the mango tree and plant some grass. I was thinking the front could dowith a new arch hedge and a swimming pool at the front. I also want a lionessstatue at the gate to depict the spirit of the two tenacious women-‘
‘What about papa?’ I look at him like what about him? Papais content with the defected house that we lived in before he showed his weakness.
‘Baby we will still look out for papa. He is an old man andlike you said unforgiveness is like drinking poison and expecting someone elseto die. I have no grudge against him for his weakness. I am just contemplating the best way to use this place’
‘It is because of your beautiful soul that I married you woman. Two years of the most awesome time of my life. I see you grow from strength to strength and your beauty just gets more with each new day. Remember our first dance at the wedding? We wait for you- release the fullness of your spirit my Shekinah. You were just glorious and did you see mama and aunt Teecry on the video?’ I smile at the memory. As usual Dante cannot resist the song. ‘Come let us take some tuma chairs and sit with them outside. Tell them God has been great and the house will be filled with little feet pattering soon.As God is our witness there will be no more taboos sweet or otherwise. As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord’
Lovely
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