We were doomed. The day that men, patriots of the struggle took over our land we were doomed. After all the bloodshed and battles that had been fought. Some won but mostly leaving voids in our livelihood. We were doomed from the word go. For a nation was led by non-citizens. We were led by refugees of the struggle. They spread across our mother land of Africa and abroad. Men and women ran. Like dogs they were chased out of their land. Like slaves they had no right or power in their own land. Oppression is all they knew. They were told that they were worth nothing, that they do not belong. They saw their own people as their enemies….inZula, leShangane, leTebele they categorized each other and never lived as one. The oppressor sure had them confused.
“After all this misconception of not being one, of the lie that was passed on from generation to generation we now found ourselves alone in foreign lands. We could not go back home yet we did not belong. We found ourselves in lands filled with civil wars, dictators and guerrilla tactics ruled those lands. For the first time, our grief and fear had united us yet we were not at home. We soon realized that it was better living with leShangane than to belong to a foreign community. Our eyes were opened to accepting what seemed familiar rather than what, who or to whom it belonged to. We started being brothers in our mid-life yet we grew up in the same house. We were of the same flash, same land and backgrounds yet oppression blinded us from seeing each other in that manner”.
How strange it was to hear them value me only because I could speak the foreigners’ language (in Mozambique) yet they did not accept me in our homeland. We by all means did not want to belong. Our hearts were mourning each day and each night. Longing for our mothers and fathers that were left in our homelands. From across all direction we came together, we for the first time saw each other as family yet we were in a foreign land. We built our communities as refugees, mothers became mothers again. Fathers played their role once more. We longed to go home but knew our land was not our own. For he who was once was a foreigner had made us foreigners in our own land. He had made us less human, non-citizens to the union, we were left with shame and we were weak. Yes we were weak, he taught us that “he that had a gun ruled, he that had the money ruled, he that hade friends in higher places ruled”. It’s funny how we deny how much we have learned from him. How we reflect our oppressor in the very way we rule.
We left our children without fathers, we our left children without direction. The ones that were left behind helped where they could. The ones that were filled with rage passed it on to our children. Young men took the stand to teach our children to once again love themselves. Biko told them that they were good enough. That they could do anything that the oppressor could do. This was a delight in our hearts. The only problem is that they were still treated as foreigners in the land their fathers.
As for us we were foreigners in the land of others (African refugees). We became more and more like the foreigners that had welcome us the refugees into their lands. We became more and more citizens in foreign countries. We bore children, buried our people, ate their food, dressed like them and even spoke like them. Again my beloved we conformed to the ways of other men only that this time, were not in our own country. It saddens me to say but we became foreigners to our own countries and learned the ways of others
MattGP
