The duplicities of the word freedom
The poem, Jasmine, by Zimbabwean poet and writer John Eppel has just been selected poem of the week by The Guardian. “John Eppel explores the duplicities of the word freedom while, in characteristic style, evoking the odours and symbolism of flowers.”
Jasmine
When they cried freedom, when the sweet
mingling of woodsmoke and jasmine
with dust – grass, granite, antelope
bone – gathered into wrists which turnedlight the colour of blood, darkness
a memory of the colour
of blood – when their voices lifted
that song and sent it echoingacross Africa, I knew it.
Sibanda had taught it to me,
polishing the family’s shoes,
squatting outside the scullerydoor. We both wore khaki trousers
many sizes too big; no shirt,
no shoes. I spat on the toecaps
while he brushed: and while he brushedwe sang: ‘Nkosi sikelel’
iAfrika…’ over and over
till the birds joined in. August birds.
‘… Maluphakanisw’ udumo lwayo …’ *It comes back to me, this August,
now that the jasmine is blooming
and the air is stilled by woodsmoke;
how they cried freedom, and how Iknew their song. A lingering chill
pinches Zimbabwean sunsets
into the cheeks of my children
squatting beside me as I write.It is their song too. I teach it
to them, over and over, till
my tired eyes are pricked with tears
held back, sweet smoke, dust and jasmine.*(Zulu) “God bless Africa … Raise up her spirit.”