Jwaabi by Yolanda Arroyo Pizarro published in Seasons African Anthology

Poema publicado en Seasons

Seasons African Edition Anthology: "That we can speak a language of performance which can be heard around the world. That in expressing ourselves, we are taking the first step. As an African, as an African playwright, I am delighted to be joining a choir of voices speaking about and to African playwrights, and women in African theatre." Karen Jeynes, South Africa -Seasons Editor

1. The master walks around us, Jwaabi
here we are, Jwaabi
two slaves
two similar with distant color skin
with different lenguas
do not know why he called me Teresa, Jwaabi
do not know why he called you Juana, Jwaabi
my mother use to sing my name
me Tshanwe
yo
esa soy
as it was the tambora
as it was the rain over my head
while my continent is screaming
rainsticks open their mouths
kalimba drums dancing
marimba ankle shaker
as there is no kingdom warrior after us
to capture me and my sisters
my brothers
my little ladies to play with
djembe doum doum
bougarabou hand percussion
while looking for giraffes and turtles
my little lionesses
my pets
my weak ones
those who cry even if they are strong
even if they are tall
my dark muscles
like mangrove monsters

the master walks around us, Jwaabi
yo soy Teresa
or Therese
tú eres Juana
or Jane
he desenfunda his penis
it’s my time to wait
until he finished with you

you’re not crying this time
brave guerrera
the sound of my voice is no maraca
no flute
there is no sound, actually
ngoma moropa balapho power
nada de voz
and you look my eyes
I look yours


 
2. I remember middle passage
I recall the waves
the saltwater vomits
the excretory pains
while mi fingers plays with the maderos of the boat
I remember el tumbaquetumba
the girl next to me who touched my elbow
and died next morning
the mother who commit asphyxia to her baby boy
those two women
friends from the same village
glitter in four pupils
magic in four eyebrows
they make a promise to each other
barabtubembón
the lighted skin one
bite the other in the neck
both closes their eyes

Fuente: http://seasons.womenplaywrights.org/2011/05/25/403/