Tribal Circus Poem by Fuhnwi Jude

In the heart of foreign land
I hear guys speak Bafut
Right in the bosom of Holland

I turn on a platform of nostalgia
Wishing I could make an input
A part of me wants in these collegia

In the half-tribe chaos
I lost my identity
That is how I ended up in this proa

My father is Bafut
My mother is Xhosa
Meaning, I am Bafut
I am also Xhosa
But then, I belong to no tribe

Our parents kissed away culture
Our biggest failure
I do not speak our languages
And wish someone had put that on a gauge

I now live in the cultural night
Nobody knows, it really feels tight
Damp, cold, and dimly lit light.