Globetrotter

My dreams these days are grey

Their wasteland is painted into my waking hours

In the pounding of each pavement

Beneath the dark, heavy sky

And in between corridors of long, grey buildings

Of glass and brick and mortar,

I dream of the place that I once called home.

 

The land of my dreams haunts me with familiarity

If I am lucky, there will be music

If I am blessed, the memory of a sweet fruit 

Will tease my tongue.

If I am favoured, I will see the shoot of my forefathers.

 

The dream is the same, every single time:

I dream that I am walking

Through a wasteland

The air is grey as the earth is dead

And the sun is hidden

In the nebulous haze of it all.

 

From the corner of my eye

I catch a flash of brilliant green

And as soon as I see it

I am transported to its side.

 

The shoot of my forefathers is beautiful to behold

Small but mighty

And blinding in the greyscale monotony of its surroundings

Its fresh, green leaf vibrates with thousands of voices,

Each one calling out my name.

I tentatively reach out,

And when my hand meets the shoot,

There is an explosion of 

COLOUR

 

I am a child again in a muddy playground

I am a child again in a pink, dirty dress.

With happy milk teeth and a gurgling tongue

Learning letters, numbers, words.

Learning paths up and down.

In The land that I call home

I see taxis and motor bikes

And mama’s red leesu

And papa’s green bible

And the house with the matooke garden

Outside the living-room window.

 

The house of my father transforms into

My Father’s house:

A church steeple this time

Twelve wooden benches

And an altar boy who looks at me when I look at him

And turns away when I do the same

My first love gave his love to my Father

And drove me away into this land of grey

His kiss lingers on my dry, chapped lips

And I wonder if he would remember my voice

If he heard it again.

 

The final part of the dream fills me with 

A deep, insatiable longing…

I tire of the words of educated men

I tire of their tirades and questions about 

Lions in my back yard,

I want to reach up and wrench the steel buildings from the sky

To mould Crosswalks and yellow cabs

Into yellow bananas and ripe mangoes

I want to tear McDonald’s from the sky and squeeze it into a seed

A seed that I will plant into the rich soil of my homeland

To bear whatever fruit it may

 

When I wake from the dream, my mind is made up.

From inside the metal bird I view the Lake Victoria

The bird swoops down and I can see the altar boy

Waiting on the asphalt

He is holding a flower with a brilliant, green shoot.

 

The land of my forefathers is bursting with them

They reach up and out of every nook and cranny

There are seeds crammed into every gram of soil

Waiting to be watered with the power of hope

Africa as old as time itself:

With its dusty paths

And markets with fruit stalls and jagged pieces of meat

With families of flies staking their claim

Africa with…

Starry nights and sticky, red sunsets.

And hurried sunrises and sweltering afternoons

With brilliant minds and foundations of family

Africa…Is the new land of opportunity.

 

Do not be deceived by the allure of grey landscapes

Across the water which holds the earth intact

Heed the call in your wandering heart

Come back home and plant your seed

And though you may not eat its fruit

Know that those who follow you

Will plant the harvest of your hope.

 

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