Friday, June 20, 2008

Nostalgie ya belle époque

Who would have thought, 30 years ago,That we would be here today?

Nostalgia…
The words of Tabu Ley, Franco, drifting into the garden
From the LP prayer,
Carrying with them
Memories of a time
When we were us,
Conscious and comfortable in our skins.
Who would have thought
We would remember those times as good times?

It was a time before Mayi Mayi and UKIMWI,
Janjaweed and Mungiki.
I can’t lie.
It was also a time of ashes and blood.
But the hope that the phoenix would rise
Gave us hope.
We didn’t know this then.
We had no sense of what the future would bring.
We had no idea that we’d forever be turning back,
Looking on past horizons with longing.

We lived in the present then.
Now we live in the past,
While tentatively dipping our toes into the future,
Testing it out,
Hoping that it won’t burn.
The present is too heavy to experience.
So we save it up,
Burn it onto DVDs and print it out on bleached paper.
We will return 20 years hence with wisdom and insight,
Ready to analyze and to dissect,
Ready to understand.

Listening to them now,
The Congolese greats,
We forget that the past and present are separate.
We skirt around those complications, the ethnic nationalisms and the refugee camps,
The IDPs and the illicit small arms trade.
We hang suspended between the notes,
Pausing in the silence between then and now,
Taking a brief respite from the consequences of being who we are.

This poem is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial 3.0 Unported License. Please feel free to use my writing for non-commercial purposes and do credit my name, Rose Kahendi, as the writer.

Sigh...

Does nothing make sense anymore?
You take a step to the right,
Hoping that this time you’ll finally emerge
From the maze.
But nothing doing.
You end up in the same spot
You started from yesterday.
You wonder, is that the forked path I took before?
Did I branch off to the right or the left?
Then you realize it doesn’t matter.
You tried both paths before,
And both led you back to the same spot.
Are you destined to walk round and round in circles,
Viewing the same limited horizons,
Yoked to the same relentless destiny?
Is there a way out of the maze
Or is the perception that a maze exists
The biggest illusion yet?
Is that an ironic smile on your face?
Are you defeated?
Is that emptiness in your soul?
Is there really a point to any of this?
When will you finally know that your heart has toiled and labored so
For no reason at all?
Will they ring a bell to tell you that it is all in vain?
Or is this it?
Is this sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach the only notice you will get?
That man who said that all was vanity,
That all was meaningless
Was probably right,
But honesty is something you’re better off without right now.
Some things are better not articulated,
Better not acknowledged.
Ignorance is bliss.
Why can’t they let you bask in the joy of not knowing,
Not purposing?
Why can’t they just let you be?

Creative Commons License
This work is licensed to Rose Kahendi under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial 3.0 Unported License.