That Child, from "Bloodlines, Bile and a Crying Child"

TENDAI R. MWANAKA

That child still puts on a happy face—
But I like the one she had a decade ago.
For a decade-old smile
Looks a lot better
Than this up-to-date happy face.

I fell in love with that child
When she showed me the scars
On her back from beatings
She received for carrying a flier
In a comatose nation—
Down through Julius Nyerere way
On her protests to Monomutapa hotel.

Where are they now? Wasting days
And nights lying to each other,
And to the feared British and Americans?
Of a deal, a GNU deal, to deal with
The things she was protesting against.

All that I could tell her then was this:
A flier is a measure of acts of terrorism,
When you live in an autocrat’s den.
And if you toss an open palm into midair,
Don’t take time to count the stars in the sky.
But follow the small ways leading out.

I couldn’t look directly into her heart
To see the things they had done to her.

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