I LEANED ON A MOBILE CREATURE
MY MOTHER TOOK US BACK TO THE VILLAGE OFTEN
ALL CHARACTERS REPRESENTED HERE ARE REAL
When I was a little girl my mother insisted on us visiting my grandparents often. She insisted on learning the language that my grandparents spoke. I speak it fluently and I cannot thank her enough for being tough about that for language is a carrier of culture. I am glad I managed to salvage this photo evidence of how things were.
It was not necessarily fun for my child mind to commune with animals however, it allowed me time to show off my eccentricity to my village relatives and elders to the fullest. I danced to a different drumbeat. For goodness sake, I leaned on a cow for support as if that animal would never move. As for my sibling, he was armed with both protective tool and logic to create distance between the said cow and self. Even the pose we had in common from DNA sharing I guess, has him looking a lot more sensible. Ready to bolt if things got thick! Me? Naaah! I was planted there!
I now see why mother dearest fought with me about hair, dress code, and just plain common sense. I loved my style. I ready did. As for the poor lady, there was always this look of ' now what do I do with this one?' on her face each time I emerged from sprucing self up ready to join the world of the living and thriving.
Woi my mummy! I have nothing to say. You truly were strong
I STILL LEAN
Many years after leaning on cows, I found myself leaning on my guitar, utterly amused at how life panned out.
The guitar is not as sturdy as a cow. It really isn't. However, it represents the strength I have had to tap into since mummy and siblings passed away. It represents the questions I asked in absolute loneliness and terror at the pain I cannot describe to date. It represents a companion at a moment when I wondered why the remaining living could be as they were. It helped me hope. It allowed me answers in song form. An outlet of pure rage. It protected me from lies, both external and internal. I leaned in and I wept and I wrote and now I am ready to sing it all out courageously!
BUT WHAT IS IT WITH ME AND COWS SURELY?!?!
When I look back to how I was brought up, hindsight begins to make sense. We connect the dots backward now don't we? I had a good foundation. One that was solely my mother's making. She insisted that I marry cultures and keep learning. She said I should never compare myself to anyone lest I felt less. I rebelled against what I believed was a toughness that I did not deserve. I even envied my brothers because I thought she was soft on them. She knew what she was doing. Preparing me for today. For all the knocks that have come from corners meant to protect me. She had seen far. And so I honor my mother today and always. By telling my story honestly.
I can hear her voice in my head sometimes telling me to stop at nothing until the story is told. By telling mine, I shall be telling hers.
I am sure she would be proud to know that I have left the cows alone to do their grazing. She might not be aware that I tried to lean on one of those in the background. Today's cows won't have it! They know their rights! As I now do mine.
May we tell our stories!
