Friday, 7 June 2013

The Colour of My Voice by Bongani Ncube

I was raped. In the morning I was raped
He came and took what was mine
He came and my destiny was unshaped
He told me it would all work out fine

My land he came and made it his own
My religion went out to the dogs
My language I was made to disown
I was made to worship two nailed logs

He said my ancestors were far from real
That his God was the one I should see
So in front of his altar I was made to kneel
And worship Gods new mother, Mary

My ancestors were thrown to the pigs
Along with the tongue of our mothers
A new song I was now made to sing
In the tongue of his white fathers

Nothing I had was sacred anymore
Nothing I owned could I call mine
Everything I knew went out the door
And still he said it would all be fine

And to my shame I allowed him to do it
His song I sang, mine but just a memory
Into his new world I tried so hard to fit
I tried so hard to change my history

Yes I was raped that morning so long ago
Right to the very depths of my soul
And now regarding myself in the rivers flow
I see that I am no longer whole





Image Title: PiĆ©ta Madonnna 
By :              Michelangelo 
Source:       The Vatican Collection

Poem is a copyright of © Bongani Ncube . Bongani is a computer scientist, seasoned writer, observer, critique, educator and talented poet who is pursuing studies in Paris, France. He has featured in many respectable publications, most notably Mail and Guardian and has left his mark as a global changemaker. For more of his insightful 'Echoes of his voice' log onto Bongani's Echoes Of My Voice