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Over The River And Through The Woods Pt. 2
Written by Rufaro Musvosvi
Illustrated by Eva Redamonti
Est. Reading Time: 1 min
I met my grandmother in a photograph
When we went back, she was gone
First, in mind, fragmented
Sometimes she didn’t believe my mother was truly herself
Because “Cathy aenda kuAmerica”9
But I think I’m fortunate at least
Because I got to meet her
I’ve run my hands over the bullet holes on the walls
of her house from the Second Chimurenga
And washed my hands in her sink
I’ve picked fruit from the yard that she shared with the neighbors
Whose baby she would pick up and bring inside
To keep him from being thrown again during his parents’ fights
She taught her daughter how to do it when she was not around
And to this day, Amai10 will bring in children who the
world throws away when it’s fighting
I’ve watched her work in her garden
And not know how to rest
I’ve never been to the dam that she tried to throw herself into
But I hear it is beautiful if you don’t mind the crocodiles
9 aenda kuAmerica: has gone to America
10 Amai: Mom/Mother
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Published October 17, 2020
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
Author’s Bio
Rufaro is a Zimbabwean-born filmmaker, poet and mechanical engineer. Her artistry focuses on speculative fiction, and more specifically, AfroFuturism. She is currently pursuing her MA in Film & Television and intends to be a writer, director and producer of works that center narratives of Black African women.
︎ @rue_one_two
Rufaro is a Zimbabwean-born filmmaker, poet and mechanical engineer. Her artistry focuses on speculative fiction, and more specifically, AfroFuturism. She is currently pursuing her MA in Film & Television and intends to be a writer, director and producer of works that center narratives of Black African women.
︎ @rue_one_two
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