Page 16 - Msingi Afrika Magazine Issue 27 Final

Community
whose owners towed them there, with the
promise of an imminent return that never
saw the light of day. In the bruising heat of
summer, through the chilling bite of winter
and the unforgiving lashes of the rain, they
have waited in vain, facing the expectantly.
Memories of days gone past prick through
their hearts as they reminisce how they
were once the jewels of adoration, cutting
through the city’s highways in spirited
races. Parked in silence, they yield to the
uncut grass blanketing their fading exteri-
ors. Reduced to a habitation of rodents and
cats. Sometimes hope is re-awakened by the
sound of approaching footsteps, but these
are just opportunistic preying hands, de-
scending to dismantle their remaining parts
for the market.
Some in the scrapyard are effective tools
without taint or blight, that were valued in
their former posts. As a result of proximity
to the factory’s metal waste, they were acci-
dentally bundled together with the unwanted
matter and a place for them among rusty
rejects was found. They wish to find their
way home, longing for another chance to
be in the affectionate warm hands of their
handlers, where they were once cleaned,
polished, and retired to a safe toolbox, but
home is now a thousand miles away. The
void of loss once felt by the ones who loved
them has already been filled by another.
Some in the scrapyard are old picture frames
and broken chairs. Through countless years
they have been crowns of different abodes,
harboring memories and rocking dreamers
into attaining their cherished desires. The
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| we tell the true afrikan story
walk of experience saw them amassing
wisdom. Guided they have to safety, the
swaying vessels of history. Generations
have gone, eras have crumbled and their
continual presence was a reminder of the
treasured moments shared. Now neglected
and dumped, they gaze at the starry skies, as
if in meditation, while covered in soot and
dust.
As we traverse the corridors of time towards
the future of Africa and its people may all
those broken by the ills of life find rejuve-
nation. May all those troubled by the trauma
of betrayal and unfulfilled promises find
repose. For those whose quest for reconcili-
ation is seemingly hitting a brick wall, may
light guide their paths into spaces where
they will find new purpose and meaning.
The realization that we are part of a broader
family must stir us into making sure we all
help each other to find restfulness from the
traumas of this world.
Hopefully, you still recollect that story
where my childhood colleagues and I gazed
upon that broken television set we had
picked from the scrapyard. Well, matters
didn’t unfold as expected. When we looked
through the broken screen we realized in
great shock that there was a live snake
coiled inside the television set, hissing,
seemingly ready to strike. From that day we
also learned that nothing found at the scrap-
yard must be brought home without properly
checking. Food for thought