A Seed
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by
Mozambican Writers
edited by Ingrid Schechter
Copyright 2014 Mozambican Writers
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Acknowledgements
The editor of this collection had the privilege of working at Universidade Pedagógica Sagrada Família in Mozambique for a year as a volunteer with CUSO/VSO. She wishes to thank Padre Ezio Bono and all at UniSaf for their support and encouragement.
Table of Contents
Granny’s Sweet House Angelo Alberto Cossa
The Threshold of a True Territory Damas Calisto Calege
The Unborn Rodrigues Milagre Chilusse
That Moment Angelo Alberto Cossa
Able and Possible Jemuce Pinheiro
The Discourse Angelo Alberto Cossa
I’m Jealous Sabir Ibraimo Abdul Carimo
Lovers and Friends Johnny Carter
I Recall Paulino Samuel Nhatave
Cold Nights Sabir Ibraimo Abdul Carimo
A Grudge, a Wrong Decision Paulino Samuel Nhatave
I Have Taken a Wrong Turn Sabir Ibraimo Abdul Carimo
Positive Angelo Alberto Cossa
The Deceived Woman Rodrigues Milagre Chilusse
Rest after Getting to your Goals Jemuce Pinheiro
I Want to be Released Sabir Ibraimo Abdul Carimo
My Death Rodrigues Milagre Chilusse
The Last Day of his Life Riva Marlisa Gilberto
A Long Time Ago Cristina Luis Guiamba
About the Authors
Granny’s Sweet House
by
Angelo Alberto Cossa
A womb carrying a baby
sweet and kind
with warmth and tenderness
The sunrise branches
through the tall trees
It’s a new day
her awe waking me
Why isn’t she there now?
That round brown hut
made by her hands
polished with resin
bright and smooth
sheltered underneath the palms
like fearful soldiers
Harmonious
Inspiring
The Threshold of a True Territory
by
Damas Calisto Calege
Close to my godparents
and not very far from my parents
a newcomer at the threshold of the dawn
every word was a temple
every realm had a king
Oh, happy party of the first sacrament!
Lying scorched before rays of an anthropophagic sun
an enormous symphony of flying singers
the last time I could separate bards from Osiris
feeling an exorcism like my last ghost
like Milton in “Paradise Lost”
a spiritual oasis lost among volcanic powers
Oh, happy party of the first sacrament!
The Unborn
by
Rodrigues Milagre Chilusse
Unborn son is what you named me. I wish I had a different name. But as you didn’t give me a chance to live, this didn’t happen.
I was happy that I was only 3 months short of being born. This way, I’d see the sunrise, join the group of other people and together we’d build the world. Perhaps I would be the president of the republic, or a teacher. How could you be certain? You didn’t give me life. You eliminated me as if I was going to make you bad.
Your parents would be my grandparents. I wish we could have met one another. I would visit them at the weekends and help them fetch water from the fountain. Believe me, at school I’d do my best in order not to disappoint you.
I heard that there are hundreds of people needing to get a child like me. But they don’t. Look how unfair you are. If there was a possibility to be born to other people, I’d immediately accept.
What I know is that it is not bad to abort if the mother-to-be´s life is at risk. Though this wasn’t the case. All you said was that you weren’t ready to have me because you wouldn’t like to see me suffering. Was that fair?
Let me say that I’d get by on my own. All I would ask you is to take care of me until I was ten. Then, I would be prepared to struggle on in my life. I would even give you some cash.
I hate you. You don’t have any fair reason to justify your bad attitude towards me. Was it poverty? How many children are born in poverty? I would be neither the first nor the last one.
I’m in prison, as if I was sentenced to pay for the wrongs I never did.
That Moment
by
Angelo Alberto Cossa
When our voices braided
In the dawn of our love night
With burning passion
When I leaned to you
I felt the strength of our love
When the cry of the cock in the dawn
Announced our love
It went “Boom!”
The edge of love
That moment riveted my heart
That moment was the crown of our love
Bewitched we were in love
That moment of love
Able and Possible
by
Jemuce Pinheiro
Just fresh
Your flesh
And mind
Felt alone
Like bone
Being dried
In the fire
No-one tried
To stop it
It has other
Chance to get
New face
New dream
Just fresh
Your flesh
And mind
With hope
And faith
All things
Can be
You are able
Just fresh
Your flesh
And mind.
The Discourse
by
Angelo Alberto Cossa
Blooming are
flowers in spring
inspired
by the future
live like candles
in the night of lovers
brainstorming!
Oh! What’s that motion?
that’s deep inside?
It’s the move of the day
the discourse!
moving like a storm
harassing irresistibly
Why falling apart
part of it I must be
I wonder
why I have to be
It’s the discourse!
I’m Jealous
by
Sabir Ibraimo Abdul Carimo
The life I've never had
The love I've never had
My life is much better than yours
But I’m jealous of yours
I’m jealous
I know you are not an enemy of your enemies
Still, I’m jealous of you!
My life is so good, but I am so bad
Happy people do not have better choices
But they do the right things
I’m jealous
Look at how I dress and how you dress
I am so classic and smart
And you are cheaper but well-dressed
I’m jealous
I have the better things
And you have the better living
That’s why I’m jealous of you!
I’m jealous
You conquer trust and respect
I humiliate, show everyone that I am the best
While I’m making partnership, you’re making friendship
I’m jealous of you!
Lovers and Friends
by
Johnny Carter
A bandit love attracts the human being.
We keep lying to sweeties, honeys, and babes.
Guess who is your best friend, who cleans your tears when you are crying?
Trust nobody, but still consider and respect your opposite’s enemy.
Wise up your horizons, but don’t forget your past.
Rise down the shame, inspire yourself with an unknown friend relation.
Don’t betray honeymoon relief, but marry your friend’s girlfriend.
Dream without limits on the train of life.
Forget about death and live the real dice of life.
With red eyes look at the sky; question your self.
Who is there, changing the climates?
Maybe your worst best friend.
Obstacles are faced, in the truth life happening.
Anonymously turn off the friendship of us.
Confidence gets a crisis from the real clue.
Gossipers and haters build up a destroyer government.
Humanity’s imperfection makes the world go down.
Real love goes bad and real friends are dead.
Jealous people cross down friendship.
Hunger feeds the stomach of poor people.
Heartlessness affects humanity unconsciously.
Disrespect happens appositively, on two sides, love and friend ship.
We are locked down by entrusted love,
but the keys are in the lion’s hole.
Seek out and guess who is who. Oh! Oh! You are blinded.
Keep your vision clear! Call your brothers’ tears!
I’m your and you are my bad best friend.
I love you, even though I hate you.
Cool off, my baby,
I’m coming to control your stress.
Count your blessing in dreams,
We marry today.
Me, I’m your inspiration gold.
Just look to Lord Sign.
Who has the torch of success?
Ringing in your innocence. The blood of…
Rest in peace MICHAEL JACKSON.
Your “Planet Earth Songs”,
With your “Bill Jean,” in your love,
Fascinating the world.
Overloaded.
In my destination role of “DEATH”
So good, so bad.
Soldiers never die, they just fade away,
betraying commanders.
Love is a fantasy joke, and a criminal friendship, death.
I Recall
by
Paulino Samuel Nhatave
Once more I am alone
Far from you, but always together
The same bed, but different blankets
I cannot hear what you say
But I can read it
From far, I gaze at you
We talk blindly
Sometimes I cannot touch you
But I can feel you
I cannot see your lips
But I can kiss them
Our past, our present
They will guide our future, again and again
Easily difficult to think of separating
How difficult it is to feel at home without my consort
We used to hug each other daily in dark days
Without stars, the moon blazing
I wish we could keep on
Under our endless blessing!
Cold Nights
by
Sabir Ibraimo Abdul Carimo
Cold nights in the cold blankets
Cold and naked nights of anxiety
Nights of sadness and despair
Oh! Cold nights
I don’t know which one is worse
To be married with a poor guardian
Or to be the wife of an absent poor guardian
Oh! Cold nights
In fact, the city is safe from robbery
But I’m about to be stolen
From you, my man,
From the life I chose
Oh! Cold nights
I will no longer stand it
The nights should be hot as a night club is
Hot as a real married couple is
Bad or fine my nights should be hot
Oh! Cold nights
I’m sorry honey
But I am tired
Tired of nights full of insomnia and heart-sinking
I know there is no next time,
Neither a next life,
But I can’t keep being the guard of the guardian’s house.
A Grudge, a Wrong Decision
by
Paulino Samuel Nhatave
She left a piece of her in me since she left
And she never removes it away
My slumbers have turned into insomnia
But still she wishes I would peter out
Like a dove flowing aloft
Without destination, without eyes,
She edges my intentions from aloft
But still she cannot renew our love
Sometimes I can ask myself
Whether she is living for me,
Whether she is making me her dreamer
But she makes my nights tiring
It was difficult to believe I was dreaming
When she one day came into my bedroom
And asked me to strip off
I went back to the bed
And felt like hugging her in my covered blankets
But she had gone away. I was alone
I cannot guess, I cannot figure out
Why she departed from me
Now she has a grudge against me
Even when she's in her husband’s cuddle,
But nothing can swerve back our past
I Have Taken a Wrong Turn
by
Sabir Ibraimo Abdul Carimo
One day
one night
not knowing what to do
I left home
seeking for justice in the world of crime
seeking for freedom from the hell
I decided to fight on my own
using my own weapons
naked weapons
my body was the only source I found to gather them
I knew I was wrong
but I had to do it
the income was insignificant
but I managed to feed my unemployed man and my blind son.
Positive
by
Angelo Alberto Cossa
The most tortuous moment of life
you appeared
among friends
you met me
you showed everyone
that HIV-positive
should not be shut out
New life emerges
with a glance
with attitude
with understanding
with forgiveness
with affection
In each gesture new life
each day new life
In each encounter there is renewal
Life blooms
The Deceived Woman
by
Rodrigues Milagre Chilusse
It is me, the woman who died in your arms sixty years ago. You took me to paradise. I heard lots of things from you including promises. Why would I have refused such a promise? I believed in you through the deep look in your eyes. They seemed to reflect your sincerity. I remember once you said that I wasn’t a woman to be tasted like salt on food, but to be loved. That’s why I gave you all my heart. In fact, I started falling into you, especially when you said that you dreamed of us getting married.
I was still a very innocent young woman. I confess that I had never been opened by anyone. My tits were still in a very good position to be swallowed, and my big bums called the attention of many respected people in
the streets of Nyancutse. I accepted you because I would be the first lady on the earth to be taken to paradise. It made me believe that you were my Romeo and I your Juliet.
Time went by and my beauty was flying away little by little. My tits were not delicious any more, my bums weren’t attractive, my skin was completely wrinkled and because I couldn’t give you a child, you sent me way.
Sometimes I have seen you in your car driving round the streets with your wife and children. That´s where I have made my new dwelling. All the days of my life have been so monotonous. I survive through donations from people of good will who give me a coin just to get a loaf of bread and a cup of water. At times, I even think if I had at least a son, maybe I could have somewhere to rest by bones, I could get daily meals. There is no man on earth who could want an old woman like me.
I don’t like to go backwards into my past, only to recall when you sucked my tits, with very slow movements of your hands travelling over my body. You drove me crazy! The only exit I have is the unstoppable darkness of falling into an eternal sleep, which I am waiting for with all my anxiety. I am sure you are too strong a man to cry. All I can ask you is, just buy me a coffin.
Rest after Getting to your Goals
by
Jemuce Pinheiro
Keep on
Tired but no rest
Powerful in spirit
No might in your body
You want to rest
Before, no rest
Keep on
Tired but no rest
Until you reach your aims
Keep on
Tired but no rest
After achieving your aims
Yes, rest
Now, when you reach
And achieve your aims
Yes, rest
Keep on
Tired but no rest
When you get near
Keep on
With goals achieved
Yes, rest
Yes, rest, not before
Achieving your aims
And getting to your goals
Yes, rest.
I Want to be Released
by
Sabir Ibraimo Abdul Carimo
Strange life full of mysteries
Full of pretences like people wearing masks
I wonder if I am the only one
With only one face
Or the only one with two faces
I want to be released
No-one knows who is who
There is a paradise in this life
And there is much lack of truth in this life
People tease and cheat like dead drunks exchanging glasses
No-one cares
I want to be released
My soul has gone
I don’t know where
Seeking for peace?
Seeking for truth?
I want to be released
Sometimes I decide to drink to feel better than others
Beer makes me feel double
But it also makes me alone
I want to be released
My Death
by
Rodrigues Milagre Chilusse
My wife, I still remember the day we got married. Many people witnessed our beautiful marriage. This is true, it was so fascinating. We swore to God that day. It was the highest moment of our lives.
My beloved wife, I was conscious of what a challenge life would be for us. The first challenge was that of getting a house of our own. How to build it? I was unemployed.
I decided to go to South Africa to look for a job. There I had to struggle a lot but finally I got one. Very proud I was! Now I couldn’t be called a useless man in the village.
To add to my pride, you gave me a ring to tell me that I was a father for the first time in all my life.
I tried to save some money so that we could one day have our own house. That was my main fight. Four more children came, although I was earning little. But we survived in our own way.
Now my life is gone. All our plans for the future stop here. The 3-bedroom house with a sitting room died. It is still hard to know that I have to leave you, no other way.
You won’t touch my body more. You won’t look forward to seeing your husband come back from South Africa in December. This is my end.
Our children will suffer. They will never say, “Our father bought us biscuits in town.”
My only one beloved wife, from now on you’ll battle for hundreds of years for our children, alone. You’ll have to hoe on other people’s farms just to get a hundred. Then, your smooth skin, your body like a guitar, will disappear. This has never been my desire, believe me.
But in this long journey I’m not alone. Now I can see the darkness coming. Right now it is in the fourth quarter. Come and feel me for the last time.
The Last Day of his Life
by
Riva Marlisa Gilberto
I put my mind to work
What will I do in my next year?
Life will do what must be done
It is doing it!
It gives me power
I’m not the same anymore
I want revenge
God has nothing to do with it!
I want revenge
Someone stole my life
Life stole my life!
I want what is mine
I have to find it before tomorrow!
I have to know what is release
to flourish my soul
A Long Time Ago
by
Cristina Luis Guiamba
My great-grandfather told me
that the time
that was the colonial time
was hard
The people were crying always
They did not eat well
They did run always
to protect themselves
They were not comfortable
People were dying
People were crying
They did not have another way than suffering
They did not have a voice
Strangers were kicking them
in their own country
They did not have any material
to fight.
About the Authors
These poems are the work of nine members of the group "Mozambican Writers" at Universidade Pedagogica Sagrada Familia, Maxixe, Mozambique:
Damas Calisto Calege
Sabir Ibraimo Abdul Carimo
Johnny Carter
Rodrigues Milagre Chilusse
Angelo Alberto Cossa
Riva Marlisa Gilberto
Cristina Luis Guiamba
Paulino Samuel Nhatave
Jemuce Pinheiro
Mozambique has a rich tradition of oral literature in the original Bantu languages, for self-expression, entertainment, and the transmission of culture, as well as a modern