Awelle, after five gruesome years of being married to Festus who she describes as a child from Satan's family, and after 3 attempts to run away from his captivity, finally gets out. But she leaves behind her only daughter. For this, Awelle is guilt stricken.
She writes 17 poems addressed to Munachi. Each poem tells a distinct story which carries a reason for running away, leaving her behind and a lesson she learnt from the experience. She ultimately leaves it to Munachi and by extension, the reader to be the judge of whether she is justified to leave Munachi behind.
Her story unravels when in the final poem of the series, the real Munachi writes to Awelle the heartbreaking reality of their circumstance.
Awelle, after five gruesome years of being married to Festus who she describes as a child from Satan's family, and after 3 attempts to run away from his captivity, finally gets out. But she leaves behind her only daughter. For this, Awelle is guilt stricken.
She writes 17 poems addressed to Munachi. Each poem tells a distinct story which carries a reason for running away, leaving her behind and a lesson she learnt from the experience. She ultimately leaves it to Munachi and by extension, the reader to be the judge of whether she is justified to leave Munachi behind.
Her story unravels when in the final poem of the series, the real Munachi writes to Awelle the heartbreaking reality of their circumstance.
Why I Left
I was in a dark place.
A bushel vessel over my face.
I'm in a long tunnel.
A long long dark tunnel.
But there's a blinding light
out yonder.
A light at the end of my tunnel,
calling me to keep on.
There's light at the end of my tunnel,
but my marriage was that tunnel.
I left to escape the tunnel.
I left to reach that light.
For too long, my mind was numb.
My dignity was
no more than my thumb.
Diminishing at each break of dawn.
My life
was condemned to a looming
pathetic end.
Dear Munachi,
you will find a million valid reasons
I ran away from Festus.
But I'm afraid there might
not be enough of it
to justify running without you.
Let's say I was silly.
Walking a field of poison ivy,
pretending to be gathering lily.
How did
I not know this about love,
that it won't grow
in anger's grove.
Well I've learned the hard way,
what the old men say.
You can't keep the hangman at bay
with the henchman's pay.
It's a long story,
Munachi,
and I'm in a better place.
I hope you are too.
| Language | Status |
|---|---|
|
Portuguese
|
Translation in progress.
Translated by Viviane Tavares
|
|
Spanish
|
Translation in progress.
Translated by Cecilia Alejandra Raimondo Freire
|
