Kenya: Home again

Kenyan poet, Mshairi expresses her homesickness through a poem “Home (Again)” It is that time of the year for Africans in the Diaspora to begin to pine about warmer climates.

2 comments

  • The Dignity of Vision
    By Rev P E Adotey Addo

    To Ghana our hearts and souls belong, our dreams of old and new.
    Your sacred grounds receiving our libations as you did our mothers and fathers.
    Hopes never faltering while heeding the wisdom of the ancients.
    The sacred drums will beat as we feed from our mothers’ breasts
    While our fathers nurture our visions old and new against all odds.
    With perseverance, trust, honesty, keen foresight and compassion
    We pledge our commitment to a prosperous and brighter future.
    So watch over our tomorrows until you claim us back again
    Lest we forget, lest we perish.

    Dedicated to The Ghanaian Students @ Cornell University Ithaca New York.
    On The 49th Independence Celebration of The Republic Of Ghana March 4th 2006. All Rights Reserved

  • THIS PLACE CALLED HOME …By P E Adotey Addo

    Sometimes my memory corrodes my mind
    But there are parts I know it cannot change.
    Sometimes I may deny past the hour of dawn
    And like a migrating beast, they fly away.
    Why is it so difficult to forget?
    Perhaps these are just partial images passing through.
    Where I once lived, someone lives there now
    But I have to be strong to fight these images
    To keep fragments of my childhood place.
    So soon so little will be left
    And I shall be alone.
    But shall I ever find myself alone
    Wondering if it had ever been
    This place, this life
    The memory makes it difficult to forget.
    But like a pail of salt water left in the sun
    It evaporates and melts away
    Only to leave a white powder
    That tastes foul to the tongue.
    This place, this life, Kukuhill

    Rekindled Memories Of Home..ByRev P E Adotey Addo

    Maybe it is about not wanting to let go.
    These floods of memories
    About places and times and such.
    And without a delete bottom,
    They are for ever being rekindled.
    Perhaps these tortured memories are an assurance
    Of those places and people and times and such
    Had indeed existed and not misleading.
    These rekindled memories.
    But there is no comfort in them
    Without the smiles that touch my soul
    To welcome me home.

Join the conversation

Authors, please log in »

Guidelines

  • All comments are reviewed by a moderator. Do not submit your comment more than once or it may be identified as spam.
  • Please treat others with respect. Comments containing hate speech, obscenity, and personal attacks will not be approved.

Receive great stories from around the world directly in your inbox.

Sign up to receive the best of Global Voices!

Submitted addresses will be confirmed by email, and used only to keep you up to date about Global Voices and our mission. See our Privacy Policy for details.

Newsletter powered by Mailchimp (Privacy Policy and Terms).

* = required field
Email Frequency



No thanks, show me the site