FrancesMacaulayForde © 2000
Proud to live in Northern Rhodesia (1954 to 1976) now Zambia, I spent many happy times in what was then our nearest glamorous destination, the thriving metropolis of Salisbury. It was a great place for shopping, nightlife and bands and I spent many long weekends there but doubt I would recognize it now as Harare, Zimbabwe.
Like most travelers on their way further south to Durban or Jo’Berg by road or train, I would stop at Bulawayo, also known as the ‘City of Kings’ by its Zulu founders.
Regular e-newsletters from Eddie Cross are posted on his website and find their way around the world, out of Bulawayo (at great personal risk). My heart breaks for the people of Zimbabwe.
This poem was inspired by one such newsletter in 2007 and was first published on the Sokwanele website: ‘This is Zimbabwe’ .
Roots & Wings
When someone asks for a memory
of Africa, I always remember
those dusty hours spent outside
Katie’s Khaya under the Mopani…
Quiet melodious chattering,
the smell of sunshine and family.
Bright white sudza plops in the pot
while bundu sticks crackled with fire.
Low stools where we crouched
in total concentration on a square
of a dozen small indents for stones,
scratched out of Africa’s skin.
Today Eddie talks of ‘roots and wings’,
of flights of fear or stoic stance:
the holes left by those who uproot
and the bravery of those who stay…
I visualize a map of Zimbabwe
systematically marked with holes.
Is this just another game of ‘Stones’
where only one man gets a turn?
Frances Macaulay Forde © 2007
#FrancesMacaulayForde #EddieCross #Bulawayo #ThisIsZimbabwe #POEM:Roots&Wings #Sokwanele
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