There are gashes that cut through
generations gone and generations coming
no amount of scars and scabs can hide
for we have not yet wept.
Pain seared deep
lulling us into a numbness
that forgot the rituals
the rituals that bring healing
that laid things to rest
And now the pain bleeds rage
and hate and a forgetfulness
of who we are, of who we were
of who we can be.
So we walk around in this
grotesque form of who we could be
contorted in pain yet
thinking we walk upright…
Still spat on and chained.
Let us now stand still
Let the pain break us
break away the brittle numbness
that lulls our hearts into forgetfulness
Let the water of tears
long-held back
wash over us,
sweep us off our feet
wash everything away
for we do not yet stand on solid ground
Let us shake away the skeletons
that cling to us
Let our mouths open wide
and let us sound that grief
Woowee, woowee, woowee.
Beat the drums my brother
Khup’inyungu
let us dance away the grief,
let us not stop until
the wounds are clear
no more pus, no more pain
Let us dance again
until our children, our grandchildren, and their great-great-grandchildren
carry in their bones this healing dance
until all those who came before us know
that we have heard, and seen and honoured their pain
Woowee, woowee, woowee…
Then wrap us in love
and let us sleep the deep sleep
of restoration
so that tomorrow our dance will be a dance of hope
that will vibrate across generations gone and generations
to come
Wrap us in love
breathe wholeness back
restore these tired bones
breathe back wholeness
breathe
Holy breath.
namutebi 1 June 2015
namutebikabalikagwa 