I overheard my neighbour asking Jesus to come now. People are here trying to kill the son of God twice.
I’m here, I’m not.
She was here, She’s gone.
Rocks ground to pebbles,
I counted the spaces they left
Huge, huge, huge, gaps loom
So I spread their absences on the floor of my heart
Now this heart won’t dance right
But still, more gaps loom
Humans are humans
They come in different shades
That which make us animals
The Yin, the Yang
The Push, the Pull
That keep our empires bleeding
In love and in war
Some still fresh, some worn by time
Headstones bearing sorry epitaphs
Of loved ones lost in the earth beneath
‘Lowo rach, lowo kwalo joherewa’
So we light candles, place new wreaths
Bitter-sweet memories we re-live;
A touch of mysticism they plastered on the cheeks of our existence
A generous love they spilt on pages of our destiny
And warmth of bellies on freezing nights.
Memories of breasts we suckled
and Twins we starved—
Still the hand of time swings
Wringing our souls off guilt
for transgressions against our own—
Sins we committed in absentia.
to body parts we kept!
Hello, how are you? I’m curious. It’s not that I’m not concerned, but you see if you brought a sexually starved bachelor into a room full of naked women and dared to gauge the rise in testosterone and gastrin hormones, wouldn’t the highest be obvious? So is my curiosity. As you know, none of the people I hold dear that had departed ever came back to tell me how the land yonder is. These are miracles reserved for people of Lazarus’s privileges, you failed to qualify too but I would have loved to get a two way communication between us , brother what channel do we use, Prayer? No. If I prayed in conversation with a dead brother I might be termed a devil worshiper; there’s a notion that people who die turn to ghost and devils, the latter is more common. The penalty for conversing with a devil, my pastor says, is eternal fires of hell.
Irrespective, I’ll tell you a few things about this world you left unduly. Here nothing is easy, there are metrics that we found already set, not that the bars they set for us were too high that we couldn’t meet but it just makes no sense to force Lionel Messi to hit the bull’s eye when the game of darts doesn’t involve the use of feet. Particularly, it hasn’t been cool with me, I have been branded names. Brother, we would have shared these names if you were here, believe me there’s nothing as weighty as a demeaning brand. It blankets your self-esteem and floors your confidence and before you know it you’ll remain an indoor mouse that complains of all he lacks but is too ashamed to step out of the door and look for all he needs. Brother, I’m ashamed to say that I have been this mouse, everything about my existence has a dark side. I knew this because everything good I did always had a diversion.
When every conversation about you has a ‘but’ as a conjunction you’ll know that your present has joined forces with your dark history to rub your trace from the map of human existence. After all, I believe it was omission of ‘t’ in butt that formed ‘but’, nothing good comes from ‘butts’. Sometimes I wish that you were here, other times I’m glad that you left before they branded you a misfit. I have all names that I wear daily, profanities held on placards and iniquities flawlessly inscribed on my forehead. Even as I write, I have to beg my hands to continue typing, I no longer want to please them. But brother who doesn’t need approval? Especially after being spat out like spoilt milk? I have lived in denial, I have lied to myself that I don’t need anyone’s approval but the truth is there are days when I just need someone to tell me that I’m on the right track. When no one does, I fail to know my destination.
Brother, I would like to tell you so much, about technology, there’s whatsup, facebook, twitter, IG among others but this short letter isn’t really about me and my space; it’s about you! Why did you leave so quickly?
Do you know how painful it is to live as two different beings in one lifetime?
I’d love to say I hate you, but hate arrived late when the apartments of my heart were already in rubbles, all that’s left is tiny cage holding my love for you hostage. This love has been held here for so long I need to check its expiry date. How irrational of you to depart and leave a part of you? Do you know we shared same breasts? Or did I suckle too much that you died of starvation? Tell me twin bro, I can’t find the right answer, my conscience is bugging me. Did I take all the love our mother had to offer, so much that you saw no point in living in a world devoid of love? For your consolation, mom died few years after you left, she didn’t even raise me. Does that make us even?
Brother, I need you. I have stood before the mirror so many times just tracing a hint of your face but nothing forms that could depict the beautiful image my heart holds of you. Besides I see you in abstracts, nothing physical, whenever I think of you I see love, kindness, creativity and tenacity. The latter is more boldly engraved than the rest, I guess this is why I believe that you were the executor because you can hold on to the wheels even when your hands they grind. I can never do that. You see, I can only form mental pictures but you were gifted to bring them to reality. You’ve rendered me useless brother, for what is the need of a dreamer without the executor?
There’s a ship in friendship that ferries friends to their destiny, but ours left me stranded at the cove as you chose a shortcut to end all this. You’re a coward, you should have looked death in the eye and told him ‘not yet, you aren’t taking me alone I am not leaving without my twin brother’
The same way there’s a hood in brotherhood, a feeling of belonging, and being appreciated, my hood scoured all the worthy memories of us, now emptiness hovers around my heart like a dark soot in a clear sky. But I still hope that one day, you’ll be here to answer my questions. I’m not done but I’ve got to go to work. I didn’t tell you, I work for seven days a week for a little pay just to keep my son alive!