STRANGER

 

You glance at me, and I see your face finds
 a strange fascination
 (or something else?) in my features.
Know that they thought me the most beautiful bride in the village.

You see my shapeless robe, with its bright threads.
Know that it was embroidered by my grandmother, passed down
to me, to wear, and to keep for my daughter.

You are amused that I step into mud to avoid stepping on an ant.
Know that we sweltered all summer because the single hand-pulled fan
had been taken over by a bird for her nest.

You frown  that I do not allow my sons to drink.
Know that my uncles beat their wives every night after drinking home brew.

I get lost in the streets, with their names and their numbers.
Know that the trees guided me home wherever I was.

Yes I never want to go anywhere, don’t want to see the sights.
Know that I travelled thousands of miles to find a home.

You raise eyebrows when my lips quiver silent prayers during the day.
Know that I prayed when there was neither food nor love to keep me strong.

Yes I smile and laugh for no reason.
Know that I learnt to be happy when all I loved had been lost.

I know this.
If you could know it too
I could be myself.
Perhaps then
you could be yourself too.

June 2020