Looking At Life Through The Beaded Fringe Poem by Sarah Mkhonza

My day has come and finally I am a wife,
I arrived today as my people called out,
How I have served in my own home, and should
Serve here, where my bed will soon be.
For I have carried all the bedding,
Floor mats and all, on this day of being,
Where I am to be joined to this man,
Who from now on will be respected by
My people, and called the son-in-law
Of the people of the south.

They are wearing leopard skins, on
Their loins and they dance knee
High, with knob-kerries raised in the
Air, as they mention the good deeds,
I am known for among my people.
I am the leader of the girls, and cannot
Leave my area unannounced, for the day
I met him, this son of an elder,
I had to cease to be the leader, and
Be a follower, who had to tell all
The girls, that he has chosen me and
Wishes to have me be the maiden,
To sweep their floor, and make fires
On the hearth of his people.

I accepted for he was a man, who
Could keep a maiden up for many
Nights. His look kills you, and
You go diving into the deep, with
A confusion only known to girls
In love. I sank down in this thing,
Called falling in love and wished,
I had risen in love. It kept taking
Me under, this feeling and now
Here I stand, defending myself to
Future accusations, by having
My people tell, what type of person
Has come here, to this place of
Reckoning where our songs, tell me
It is not easy to be wedded, to
The sons of our land.

They will smear me with red ochre,
When the sun goes down, and this
Sign signals that I can never leave,
This home that is near the mountains.
I have had my people walk up here,
To see me dance the dance that allows
Me to ask, for his hand in marriage
At the knees of his mother. She gave
Me more beads, and I have shown them
To their people, for they named the
Cows and danced showing how their
Horns, which are twisted look, against
The sunset. The dance was a joy
To watch, for they have won the
First test, of whether they are
People, who know our ways or not.
To say they dance a storm, is what
The leader of the girls will have,
To tell my people when they return
Home, for they will leave me here,
To prove they were right.

The sun is setting and the cattle
Are coming home, at this new home,
That I do not really know. They
Are led by a bull that has two
Humps like a camel. So wide are
Its horns, that I fear it will
Not make it into the kraal. On
This day I miss the bulls of the
Land, where I come from for they
Bellow, in the wild and my stomach
Rumbles when it is time for them,
To come home. Let the power of
These people set in my space,
As I retire towards the river,
To receive the red ochre baptism,
On my face that wears the beaded
Fringe, for it will soon go and I
Will become a wife, in this land
Far away from our rivers.

My mother told me that this is
A journey without an end. She
Said life really begins and ends
Here, but the truth about this never
Ends. What happens to one is never
Repeated to another, for the places
Of being are as different, as the
Hearths on which one cooks. I look
At the far away lands, and see myself
Growing in the sandy lands, of my
People and wonder if I will ever
Return, for here begins the life
I have been waiting for.