mukiwa | Poems and Petals

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Worlds Colliding.”

I love reading autobiographies. My two favorites are Frank McCourt’s Angela’s Ashes and Peter Godwin’s Mukiwa. Both books were about their childhoods and growing up, one in Ireland and one in Rhodesia that is now known as Zimbabwe. And coincidentally, both of them relocated to New York after publishing their books. So that makes sense, I could have them meet up for a coffee or drink, and discuss their great fortunes at hitting the autobiography jackpot. Entirely possible and they wouldn’t have to travel far to do so. Except sadly Frank McCourt had since passed away, so perhaps we would need a time machine.

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Call Me Ishmael.”

I think I first realized something was wrong when our nextdoor neighbour, oom Piet Oberholzer, was murdered
I was about six years old then, and I never will forget when I realized
The perils of being a child of Africa would soon out-way the joys
Of being alive under the African sky
I knew in my heart that a choice would need to be made
One day of choosing to stay or to go
As fate would have it, when the day came to choose
I packed my bags, and with sadness in my heart
I left

First line extracted from the first line of Peter Godwin’s Mukiwa – A White Boy in Africa