IMMULANIE MAKANDA
CONSUL - MALAWI
Immulanie Makande is the current Vice President of the Poetry Association of Malawi. He is an educator and entrepreneur. One of his poems was anthologised in a book titled 'The Death of an Idea'
by PEN MALAWI CHAPTER. Immulanie writes to advocate for the rights of women and children.
NOT JUST SOMEONE
To me, just someone you are not
Gone, to me are you not
Nothing you mean to me not
To me, you are what you are
A mother, a painful night who endure could By clock, day it would look But by the tears, washed would the stinging rays A creator, who never saw a day of rest That well-built craving to mama me Even three times king’s income not matched Travelled not you to the endless abyss To fetch but little me?
Did father not shame you
When from another womb born did I
Crushed, uncared for, left you howling
Quenched not your throat all Lake Malawi water Mother! Take me home, embrace me You are not just someone to me My mother you are always Happy mother’s day mum Yours faithfully Lost son
ON BEING TOLD MY FATHER HAS DISAPPEARED
The sun has set
My dad isn’t home yet
A dark cloud about to break into bitter tears Loud thunders wail deafening my ears Nobody saw my father, they say, nobody knows It’s one of the nobodies who has him Has harked him, and drunk his melanin-deficient blood To cut his arms and legs In this age, nobody does nothing Nobody sees something, drinks something Nobody breaks rules, nobody loves nobody And yet nobody does everything Hoping nobody knows it In the past, we had everybody, gone Now it’s nobody
THEY ARE FORCING ME
They are forcing me to marry
Saying, I shouldn’t behave like Virgin Mary Defiled virgin or like virgin Joseph For I’m not the chosen Every time I’m passing they see me with awe Twitching faces that say; “I’m not happy alone”
Or I’m growing thin due to madam palm and her five lovely daughters
So- they are forcing me
They are forcing me to marry
Listen! They have gone hunting a man for me
They- feel like I don’t see
The chances, the boys, the men, browsing, surfing, Scanning, scrutinizing, perusing, flicking through And my ears are deaf to the language of love
For- I have lost a bunch of men as they gained So, they are forcing me They are forcing me to marry
Because- they say they see me growing horns Or drying my bowel, growing a third foot or my kisses are losing taste So- I need to haste in marriage and soften my face With kisses, caresses, embraces, cuddles, hugs and squeezes Father marriage will shut the door like Father Christmas On 26th December, the problem is, I should always remember That no additional 24th December shall come for me They are forcing me to marry- A man I hate to greet They are forcing me to marry- A woman who scares me in my dream Between him and me, there is nothing that’ll last But when they see the separated we They say “we love each other”
“And our love was written to end at the altar They’re forcing me to marry And that’s why they call me a dog, saying; “I sleep- with everyone no matter how bad they smell”
So- protecting their significant other, they put them in a cell And as their marriage breaks, they’re pointing a finger at me Lord! Where is my Adam, for my country has few men So much that three or four of my kind should say “I do” to one bastard And they’re forcing me They are forcing me to marry My uncles, brothers, sisters, fathers and mothers They want me to feel the love they once felt The happiness they on one occasion shared The problem is- I’ve never seen them in love And pleasure runs away from them like fire from water
So- let them push and sing songs that will eat me away I know, they are forcing me
PHILEMON MUNEZERO
A Crying of My Mother
Carried an unknown burden,
Countless days and nights,
Waited for the last day of pain
Curiously with tears.
She was beautiful but ugly
She was slender like a door
Black than charcoal
But pampered like a mall
Between twin trees
A cursed seed rose up
Without water from the world,
It survived the drought
Thrown away like a small stone
Beaten days and nights,
Starved and died alive,
She wept and shrieked like a child.
She ran in a farm trying to save
The cursed seed,
For not realizing the bitterness of the world,
The cursed seed rose up and forgot the drought.
Fighting with her blood
Crying and praying for it
No god could hear her crying voice
But only the pretending cursed seed
The pungency of the life was tired--
Of the tears of the mother,
She cried for the last
The problem pitifully died.
Born Dead
They fought and quarreled,
My eyes ran into my feet
Scared and exasperated,
Saddened by the wrath of the beasts.
Raised in the battle of angry lions,
Taught forgiveness is to execute
Lost myself and died young
The kinship meant nothing.
The love of the mother
Have I never seen?
Hidden in the darkness
The kinship meant nothing.
Human but no humanity,
Alive but died mysteriously
Traumatized with no future
Wish were I born dead.
Dear Africans
Dear Africans,
We share many things if you see it in every angle
Whether you black, while, yellow or any other colour.
The African blood, love, spirit should be in you
Though we seem not care about it.
Did you know that being African doesn't mean to be black?
You might be white but you're from Africa.
That blood that flows in your body,
That body you got from your mother or father,
The brain; intelligence you have but you are motherland is sinking,
Can't you use them to build your nation?
Building the Nation Building the Nation,
Which follows with i did my share to build my nation,
Why do we think we had already done our part
While we are still energetic to serve?
You call yourself African and you sing it wherever you go
And you put on clothes with your nation's Flag
Just to show where you come from.
Yet, your fellow Africans are dying of hunger in your neighbourhood
They do not have clothes and it's difficult to afford education
But, you always change cars like shoes.
I am not blaming you what you worked for
And it's of paramount importance to our nations
To have people like you but we need your help.
See children sleeping on streets with worn out clothes,
The early pregnancies occurring in your continent.
Can't you give a hand?
Dear Africans,
Who leave their nations for their own benefit
Studying, living, working and visiting the Westside
Do you sometimes think of the country's benefit?
Our minds are poisoned by the stories from the West Window
That the better life is nowhere than there.
Remember there's no place like home.
Our countries are at stake because of us,
Our skills are being used in unmatching field,
We take care of old people there just to earn a few,
We clean their bathrooms and pools
While we have degrees with skills which can be used
To serve our countries.
Globalisation is good because we benefit from it,
Travelling, working everywhere we go,
But, Africanisation is better than that
I bet.
We only have to strive for patriotism
And the love of our nations should be prioritised
In order to make our Africa a better place.
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