THE SILENT THINGS IN OUR HEARTS

THEY HAD always had an eye for each other, ever since their primary school days. Naturally, neither had ever given even a hint of this to the other, but each had carried his and her own slumbering love silently, unspoken, unsubstantiated, deep within each heart.

The primary school days ended and they separated, each going to a different secondary school. Six years of separation and in that time neither had any idea where the other was. And yet their love continued to grow, to wax soft and strong, tender and untouched and sacred, in those recesses of the heart of which even the mind itself is barely conscious.

Every once in a while she would float into his thoughts and he would remember and vaguely yearn and long… then forget again and continue, like other youths, with the demanding task of growing up – until the next bout of longing.

Nor did she ever completely forget him either. And being genuinely of the deep female gender, her ability to call forth his memory in her heart was even stronger. Often she wandered where he was; was he still alive? Was he fine? Was he in love? Would they ever meet again? Would he recognize her? Did he ever think of her? There was no reason why he should; he had hardly ever looked at her in their childhood days. Foolish me, she would think, dreaming hopelessly…

Thus did the years pass by.

He grew up into a young man at the tail end of his youth, matured by love affairs, ideological battles and heartbreaks come and gone.

She grew up similarwise, and if he had loved deeply, she had loved twice as deeply… and if he had believed blindly, she had believed even more fiercely… and if his heart had been broken, hers had been dispersed, ground, into the winds.

Thus did they suddenly meet again in the university.

Who recognized whom? Who was more – or less – eager to let show the fact that silent, unconfessed love had long smouldered in fiercely hidden embers deep within the heart?

Often he would visit her in her room in the evenings and they would crack many jokes, and slowly came they to also like one another. But if he was seeking company with which to cure his loneliness and erase the memories and after-effects of earlier heartbreaks, then she for similar reasons was reluctant to unite again too quickly with a member of the male gender. It was a subtle cat and mouse affair, nothing ever actually spoken, yet both being fully aware of exactly what was going on – and while these things were happening silently in their hearts, outwardly they continued to crack their friendly jokes.

But tensions build and pressures mount and something somewhere must always finally give. And, for hesitation, the tide untaken at the flood, it sort of wilted and softly broke, the potential lost its momentum, the attraction lost its orientation, and it died between the two of them. Gradually they began to see less and less of one another…

One year then passed, during which their paths did not once cross.

She had meanwhile exchanged her room for a new one which she shared with another female student with whom she had quickly become good friends. But never had she voiced it to anyone, not even to her good friend and roommate, that there was someone whom she silently, painfully, loved. –

And no-one could have prepared her for the shock she got when she one evening opened the door of her room upon a visitor’s knock and saw him standing there. They stared at one another with bewildered looks of surprise on their faces.

And then, from behind her, from deeper inside the room they shared, the happy voice of her room mate called out loudly, brightly:

“Oh, Zubi – hi! Finally… you’ve come.” And, bounding forward with barely suppressed excitement, her roommate turned to her of whom this story is about and, taking Zubi’s hand, said:

“Efe, meet the guy I’ve been telling you about… and, Zubi, meet Efe, my room mate.” –

With pain almost impossible to bear, Efe watched her roommate Awa hug, and be hugged, tightly, by him, Zubi, the silent owner of her heart.

Over the next couple of weeks it became clear to her that Zubi and Awa were in a serious relationship and loved each other deeply.

Nor was there anything for her room mate Awa to know or ever suspect in connection with the two childhood friends, Zubi and Efe, for there was nothing that existed or ever had existed between them, was there?

They were just , as always, two casual acquaintants who happened to have known each other in their childhood days and who, today, whenever they met in Awa and Efe’s room would, as usual, aye, as they had always done, simply crack light friendly jokes with one another.

And if they felt anything else, anything deeper, for one another perhaps, then it spoke not, nor loudly, but remained, silent, as it continued to reside in the deep quiet places within their hearts.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

GIFT

Give me you.
Before you begin to wonder
What you are, remember
That each star and each season
Is nature’s gift for a reason
And you, dear spirit, your blossoming heart
Is spirit’s gift to the gift of art
It is the art of being you.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

CHRISTMAS: HEARTS OF BELL

I saw a bell
Fall under the spell
Of a magic wand
In a magician’s hand

And he turned the bell into a man
Walking up and down the land
Ringing out a message to everyone
But only a few will understand

I tell you what.
Affiliation to nationality and religion, gender, class and race
Will always be more important to the human race
Than being human, our common lot.

So now the bells, they are ringing
The hearts, they are singing
The times, they are bringing
A Message of Hope.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

ODE TO QUIETNESS

Good morning, Quietness,
I remember how with surprise
I felt your absence last night.
And did I thirst for you? First I thrashed about wildly,
Clutching at every suggestion of you,

Then, exhausted, like a leopard I crouched, still,
And lay in wait for you – awake, listening,
Until the morning came… My life rolled before my inner eyes,
Awakening you from the depths of my heart –
Good morning, Quietness, as I fall asleep at last.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

BROODING

There is a bird
Crying outside my window
In the woods
An echo of loneliness within me…
Every few seconds
A lonesome wail
Haunting, detached, a hall of sorrows
An abandoned lover
A brother alone
A wanderer in the woods of life
Between the trees and the dark leaves
Beneath the reach of the sun…
I hear your call
Partner
I feel you, I feel you well.

The glass is dark
The mirror within is a bird outside
I never see but always hear
For I carry the sorrow within.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.
amazon cover copy river 2015

BRAVE ONE

Your secrets
Give them power over you
When you lose your fear of your secrets
They lose their power over you

No-one is feared more
Than one who says yes I did it, so what?
You can break a warrior’s shell
But you cannot make the warrior fear you as well.

Breathe out, brave one, and live some more
Your weaknesses and your strengths are all you’ve got.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

THE PERSON WITHIN

I saw a big spirit
Carrying a small body
Upright and light and taller
Than the giants that dwarfed her

I saw a strong spirit
Carrying a crippled body
Gracefully, effortlessly, healing
The minds that came his way.

Like the seasons that change
So every Body will go
But our natures will stay
And spirit, spirit will find a way

To break through the shell
And say Hello.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

THIS CANDLE, THIS CRADLE, THIS CROWN

Shone the New Star
Like a Comet
Blessed tail a-resting nobly
Upon the manger
A guardian, a herald
Of Eternal Love
Of Eternal Light
And I saw a smile
‘Twas an Angel singing
And a Child with serious eyes
Smiling greetingly
Into a world full of strange creatures
Long lost –

A candle is re-lit
A cradle is rocked with overflowing light
The Bearer of the Crown
Came simply
And left simply
And nobody can know completely
How much love He had
How much pain He felt
How much He loved and hurt
A Stranger
A Hero
The Incarnation of Love Itself
The Love of God
Yea, Thou art He
Jesus, the Christ
The Son of the Living God!
Amen.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

THE SUBTLE GIFT

Most things become
smaller
Receeding into
Distance.

Yet, as memories of you
Race into fargone bowels of time
Looking back all I see
You towering ever bigger in my mind –

How can this be?
Newton, Einstein and Hawkings may try
But never can explain this –
It transcends intellect.

Time, the subtle thief, with time
Has become the subtle teacher
The subtle giver
The subtle gift.

(for Kwame Chukwumerije)

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije

 

WARM

There is something about Christmas
Even in places where it is cold, it is warm
Those without electricity bring light to each other
Drought and famine cannot destroy the bread of life
War will not make us forget that we are one human family
And the rich will not be happier than the poor –
There is a light that brought warmth upon this earth
If the cold of loneliness grips your heart this year
May Christmas touch you and make you warm.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

I wrote this poem as part of an interview published in Sabine’s Lifestyle-Kolumne. The body of the interview is however in german, but it can be read here.
*Aka Teraka was my pseudonym.