Life Lost

I look behind at the place I called home,
Now just a pile of rubble, a mountain of stone.
The place where my son laughed and played,
Now reeks of his blood and his pain.
We were happy, with the little we had,
Now left with nothing but sadness in hand.
It took one strike, just one blow,
To reduce us to another number, another story of sorrow.
The ground where we once played,
The street where we freely roamed,
All turned to a war zone,
A place that's just become a shadow of my home.
Now sirens fill the radio waves,
Smoke, the once starry skies,
In the fight for peace and humanity,
I lost my home, my identity died.
I held my bloodied son once when he was born,
Now I hold him again,
This time though his lifeless corpse,
Leaving me numb, leaving me bare...

By Zoha Tapia

Reasoning

Time has passed,
Years gone by.
But it seems like just yesterday,
When you were by my side.
The ups and downs gone through together –
The miseries and turmoil we fought for each other.
But destiny has its twisted ways
Of making us realise what we share.
In just one second we drifted apart
With no part to play and no fault of ours.
I try to question “why me this time?”
Still in disbelief of what went by.
Every dream came crashing down
As your flight came to the ground.
You were one of the 150 on board
But our lives were taken, not just yours.
Alas! I must live and move on.
In the hope that time will heal my wounds.
But with every second that passes by,
With every candle that in your memory I light,
I find it difficult to comprehend
Why did our journey end.
But I have come to understand,
Time doesn’t heal all the pains.
It simply teaches us to live
With what we cannot understand.
So, I live as time goes by,
With the flicker of your memories by my side.

By Zoha Tapia

In search...

I walk the streets all alone,
Looking for someone I can call my own...
But all I see are strange faces,
Looking at me like I am another specie.

I wander about the streets looking some more,
For another like me but there seem to be no more.
I crave for a friend to end my loneliness,
So I don't seem alone in this male dominated wilderness.

All around are mothers loving their sons,
Groups of boys playing and having some fun,
Men working in their stores and go-downs
But not another girl can be found.

I go back home lost in my thoughts,
Wondering if my existence was something wrong.
Was being a girl so much of a fault,
That not another could be found?

Why were we disappearing? What did we do?
They were just babies, like I was one too!
When my parents brought me in with happiness and glee
The parents did all they could buried them, burnt them or sometimes just abandoned them and flee.

Now, when I look around, it is in sorrow that I do
I have may brothers but from sisters I have been kept aloof...

Remembering Madiba

Bitter battles fought across

With words, with silence or through force.

We talk about moving beyond the hate,

Resurrecting the future, forgetting what went.

But pent up somewhere deep inside,

The remembrance of the past still lies.

Blaming each other for the miseries ensued,

Squabbling about the past and the blaming continues.

We live in the present talking about the past,

Dream of a future built on graves of what has gone past.

But one man stood above that all,

Looking ahead and standing tall.

He unified all in what he believed

He went through turmoil in an apartheid regime.

Yet with a smile he bore it all.

Rose up stronger every time he would fall.

With humble steps every mountain he climbed.

Only to find another to conquer in sight.

He didn’t need force

Or a slugfest of words.

Just a bit of humanity and love for all.

While others talked, he walked the walk,

And did what people only dreamt of.

To build a strong future, with unity in the fray,

He broke the bridge between conflict of the past and peace of today.

Fondly known as Madiba to all,

Though Nelson Mandela has gone, his spirit will live on...

Living in the shadows of hell

I sit alone shaking like a leaf,
Praying for someone to give me some relief,
Relief from the pain I have endured,
From the hell which has been my home for three years.

I came here to escape the exploitation at home,
To a country where poverty was supposed to be untold.
Where people were just and money would come by,
And I could bring light to my family and life.
But here I am stuck in what seems to be hell,
Living with my enemy and making darkness my friend.
 
I am frightened and unsure of whether I will live,
Ever see any life beyond the four walls I am in.
I have been threatened and warned not to move out,
Not to speak a word and stay locked up.
 
I crave for the days to put the dustbins out,
To get a glimpse of the sun and my whereabouts.
I ask for my wages to send back home
But all I get is abuses in return.
 
During the day all I do is sweep,
And when the mistress sleeps, I silently weep.
Hiding my tears when she is around
She said I will be jailed if I cry out loud.

I want to escape, to be set free,
But she said if I run they will arrest me.
I cry for help but there is no one to hear
And though it’s been three years, I feel I have wasted a lifetime here.

I am tired of cleaning, my body is giving way
My wounds aren’t healing but am still beaten every day.
I wish to talk to my family, know they are alright,
But my memories of them are diminishing and turning blight.

I tried going to the police, but was sent back
It’s her word against mine, and I am just a servant who is black.
Yes, I was poor but that was still home,
Today, for money I have lost it all.
I lost my family and my friends,
But more so my freedom to live like a human.
 
But here I am all alone,
Slaving for life and trafficked to clean someone else’s home.

Battered

I look around in disdain,

As I walk across the uneven terrain.

This was a place I once called home,

A country which I regarded as my own,
With family, friends, my daughters and sons,

But today I am all alone,
Wounded scarred and broken down.
My eyes have dried, I can't cry no more.
They say the worse is over, but I have nothing to live for.

They said it was war against the bad,
To uplift us, to free us, to fulfil our demands.
They invaded my country, brought soldiers and drones,
They killed the rulers and innocent souls.
Before my eyes I saw my worst fears unfold,
My sons prosecuted, my daughters disrobed.
Saw houses and trees that lined the streets,
Dissolve into dust and craters and covered with bloodied bodies.

I lost everything I ever had in this world,
Been tortured in ways that cannot be told.

Now like a prisoner wrapped in chains,
With other civilians I am dragged away.
"Why me?" I ask, "What have I done?"
But all I get is silence, being part of my country is reason enough.
Reason enough to think I am trouble,

Even though I am old, wounded and crippled.
Now all I am is a living corpse,
Hoping my end will come fast.

Distraught in despair

She sat in solitude
With tears strolling from her eyes
Not knowing what to think
Who she was to stand by.
On one side was her dead daughter, wrapped in white,
On the other her daughters supposed father, who let her die.
Three months ago she gave birth to her bundle of joy,
Her baby girl for whom she had dreams, to whom she gave life.
But little did she know how short lived her happiness was
When grief struck her and she plummeted into remorse.
But to add to her pain and excruciating despair
Was the identity of the murderer, for whom she also cares.
She thought the tiny tot would bring about a change of heart,
The want for a son would be overwhelmed by her innocent laugh.
Her husband who was to be her child’s father and guide,
Made sure her presence from their life was wiped.
His hatred for her knew no bounds,
As mercilessly, in poison he let her drown.
Now grief stricken, and all alone
She lost not one, but two pillars of her home.
On one side her daughter lay before her dead,
On the other her husband with handcuffs, away from her was being led.
Who was she to cry for, for what was she to be in pain,
Her daughter who was no more or husband who was taken away?
Who was she supposed to complain to, on whom could she blame
Her husband who killed her daughter, or her ill fate?
Questions hounded her and a long life at her stared
Where was she to go from here and who would understand her state?
Generations of hatred and one ill fated day
Took both her pillars - her daughter and husband away.

By Zoha Tapia