III. *6 Days *

A poetry series...start here. III.Dear Congo  Some days you break my heart  I wonder if I’ll ever piece myself back together  Other days you show me the kind of love  I could never get from any other country  And whenever you open your arms wide  I wonder which day it’s going to be  The one…

II. *6 Days*

A poetry series...start here. II. Will Tell the children  To keep their innocence  Tell the daughters  To be warriors  Tell the sons  To stay brave Tell the world  To be wary of its silence  We’ve left seeds  And they’ll multiply  All by faith  All in love  Tell the heavens We’re bringing more angels  Tell the…

I. *6 Days *

*The following content might be disturbing or triggering to some readers* In light of current events that are taking place in South Kivu (DRC), this poetry series aims to express the frustrations of anyone who may come from a minority group. Banyamulenge - ethnic tutsi group of people from the High Plateau of South Kivu…

A journey

*In loving memory of those we loved and lost on the night of August 13th, 2004 - Gatumba, Burundi Fifteen years later Fifteen years without youWhat still hurts is the how What still stings is the why How your souls were snatched awayWhy your existence put a whole country On national emergencyFifteen years later Fifteen years without justiceThey saw us…

Wishful

I want to meet Mama Afrika The woman behind the birth of The richest yet poorest continent I have a couple of questions to ask her   I want to know where she was when The mercenaries invaded her home Was she away for the day and forgot to lock her door? I want to…

Now

My lovely mother knows how to melt a hardened heart. She uses the words “mukunzi wanjye” when talking to us. It translates to “my love”. She’d say for example “mukunzi wanjye wakwiyitaye ho” (my love won’t you take care of yourself) And there’s something about the way she  says it That stops the time and…

Then

The first funeral I ever attended was my uncle’s I watched my mother and my aunt cry Hundreds of others were mourning My father spoke and I kept hearing the words “yari Intwari” Over and over again. It meant he was a hero. At only five years old I learned two things That the international…

Here

One of the most common phrases you’ll often hear from us is “ I miss Africa” The first time I said it to one of my American classmates, he looked surprised America like they say, the land of the free and home of the brave Africa like they say, the land of wars and home…