Words by Yusra Warsama and sounds by Jason Singh
2008
As I cannot write
i put this down simply and freely
as I might speak to someone who will listen
and accept the fact that I don't get everything right
everytime
Born in three points
one corner held down by my mother
another by my father
The third
tenderly clasped by my own distracted fingers
with nothing in between but good intentions holding court in our home
My mother still a child
and my father a frustrated man
warming spots on concrete in the dole queue for the next man
There's one creator they tell me
Fear him
Fear Him they said
I was their future
The first to go to uni from my family
help us move forward in a strange land
Reflections
I was to be a vessel of their Moses
I went to get an education
where people spoke almost a different tongue
and even though I understood the subject
I couldn't understand the social condiment
that went with this meal of opportunity
I was meant to swallow down with pleasure and ease
Curfew was set for I
and my clothes were a uniform that liberated some
but suffocated me
But I kept quiet
so the sisters wouldn't fuss
and the brothers wouldn't look down their noses in disgust
So when I met Mr Lane
and he told me he was looking for an assistant and it was with good pay
I thought
I can't go wrong here
Maybe one day sometime I'll be big
and soothe my mother's woes
and iron the wrinkles from my dad's face with my works
But two weeks in
and something that I didn't sense at first
became what my mother always said
When there's a man and a woman in a room alone
there's also the devil that makes their number three
and I've not even told my own ears how he tried to touch me
Didn't dare let it manifest into a whisper
for fear it might contort and twist the face of my father
which would curdle the purest mother's milk
So when I stood in line with my dad
I let them believe it was my ways, my mistakes and my curse of being born with the inherent wrongs of eve
Twisted
Everything's become twisted
Sound doesn't form words and all I can hear is noise
in seven disjointed conversations in my head
in one frequency
at one time
in five different ways
and my tongue fools its own flesh of the dominion of its mouth
It came
The day I saw their love was with condition
Releasing tears that flowed and grief that came in waves
How could I be mourning for the undead
Disappointment shattered the dreams
like uncivil war shattered their lives
I
unworthy of repent
Soiled face couldn't look up and dare ask for mercy
The drop from the window enticed me
Wanted to pore my darkness from this existence to the next
The razor blade
would give me ease
and my blood would bleed
Red death the only light that gave me hope
The devil called for me
and I rolled some more
and licked the Rizla in distress
in misplaced hope that I might find peace
But dis Grace was my name
But if I took this soul from this place
the lord wouldn't receive me
My parents spiritually left me
but physically they kept me so I had to repent
Forgive me
Forgive me
Forgive me
So all can be forgot and become dust
So one day this sinner will not be lost
And I'll just mention just once
the hypocrisy where you lay prostrate
expecting me to know love
when all you give me is fear that later becomes hate
Iga raali ahaw (forgive me)
Iga raali ahaw (Forgive me)
waan ku jecelayay (I love you)
dembiga naga dhaaf (pass me of my sins)
Turn the guile of man away from me,
Hoya waan ku baahan yahay (mother I need you)
waan ku baahan yahay (I need you)
wahaan samaaya (what do I do?)
Waan ku garaniya (I know you)
Maafi mashkillah (No problems)
Fekerka na waan ska ilaalinaya (And I'll protect my self from too many thoughts)
But what will become of my soul
