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By Bobo Kalenga
I remember you!
Land of my ancestors,
In the heart of that mother land
Who can’t express
What she really feels,
Yellowish soils and Green trees
Where mobile libraries
Share their wisdoms.
I remember back home,
My childhood and
Those children of the land,
Strong and Valliant
Who used to dive into
That dirty river without a word;
Knowing that swimming
Was their only desire
When stars in space don’t burn up
The ground with fire.
I remember the rainy seasons,
Where the men and women
Would be outside their houses
Waiting for the rain to fall
Like Christians wait
For the Son of God to come;
Hoping to have good times
After the rain.
I remember back home,
And a family that used to eat as many times
They wanted a day,
When food could be thrown in the garbage,
And dogs not caring about the bones.
I remember back home,
I remember back home
And the lightning upon the land
That has brought total silence,
And total darkness while the coldness
Becomes the supreme ruler of the town,
When the sound of guns become the only music.
I remember back home,
I remember green trees becoming yellow;
Showing how winter has conquered the heart
Of black Africa turning soft heart into hard ones
And the children’s tears into ice that cannot be swallowed.
Mountains colliding together like pigeons migrating
To the south hoping that they will keep their rhythms and melodies
While the clouds singing their national songs
I remember nights without light,
And days without foods.
I remember that old widow who,
Every night shares her tea
With her grand children,
Those arrogant men full of money
Begging water from orphans
Sleeping on the street,
And that family who,
Used to throw foods in the garbage,
Sharing a piece of fish and giving
Its bones to the dog.
I remember back home,
And the familial whole night prayers,
Days and nights of fasting
Hoping that our rivers of tears will dry up.
Still hoping, hoping that we’ll see the light again.
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