Copted from Diaspora Heartdrops by Chris Dahi
We have come home
Back from the lands of the distant sun
After the meals of oat and cereals
Mixed with artificial honey and salt
Back to the desolate farmlands
And overgrown homesteads
We have come home
The returned sojourner gazes with trepidation
and despair
at the bleakness of his abandoned inheritance
that has fermented over the years of negligence.
He reminiscents with a trembling heart
the yesters spent in the artificial embrace
of a sophisticated modern civilization
to the monotony of his likely hot tropical morrows.
His heart skips and thumps
like a bare footed dancer on a mat of hot coals.
As he gazes with indefinity
In his mind the questions come again
Where is home?
Oh you perambulator
You who is a global gallivanter, What is home?
And from the deepest of my innermost person
The reply slowly echoes like the silent scream
of the unborn babe in the mothers womb
Home is neither east, west, north nor south
Yet home is either east, west, north or south
Home is not the Elderado across the sea
Which you yearn for and dream of
Diaspora Heartdrops
23
For our people say that where you are not
is always better than where you are
The grass is usually greener on the other side of the fence
in the mind of the lazy man and his greedy brother.
Home is not a structure made by man
Neither is it built on the pigmentation of men’s skin,
nor their tongue nor calling
Home is anywhere you have found peace.
Being the quiet, comfort and security of the rising sun
and the assurance that it will rise again
for us and our children come morrow
Home is a settled state of mind
The chance to put your spirit, soul and body
to your calling, creed and election without fear
Home is a place where you have found acceptance,
A place where I can share a pot of tombo with my kith and kin
without constantly looking over my shoulder in trepidation and
anxiety
It is a place you are willing and ready to defend, protect
and serve with your time, your sweat and your blood
Home is joy and happiness as in the incomparable beauty
of the ringing laughter of children in the play ground
It is a place of love, of warm embraces and kisses
Home is the place of your heart
If you find it, call it home and make it that.
