CHRONICLES OF A YOUNG WIFE
22-09-2001
Closed eyes never feel safe and I think I am losing myself. I want to break out of this cage.But where would I go?The air is raw with need and this extreme need to break out is eating me up All I want is to be free. I want to feel the sun on my face. I want to dance in the street. I want to feel something. Anything. A child weaned on poison considers harm a comfort after all.
One day the prison warden fell asleep, I noticed that he had dropped his keys.My key to freedom lay on the ground, but where would I go? After a lot of deliberation,I reached out for it. With trembling hands… I opened the cage and that’s when I realized that I was at an impasse.To leave or not to leave, I guess I just wanted to be free.
The blood on my inner thighs dried, combined with a trickle of sweat….. Anxiety my old friend came knocking again callously at my brain. I cautiously stepped out. The bruises on my legs and arms, tore and the scars reopened.The burns on my fingers, stung with passion. The scalds on my back sung out to me in a song only I knew the lyrics to.I just wanted to be free
My legs gave out and my chest tightened at the thought and fear of the cold world that awaited on the other side. What was I thinking? I wasn’t ready for any of it. My own parents had been paid heavily by the warden. With a shake of the head and a small laugh, I stepped back in my cell and shut the cage, out along with my emotions. Decided it wasn’t so bad, after all, my cellmates could keep me company. I locked the cage and placed the keys back in the warden’s palm. I kid you not. He grasped them firmly and smiled cynically,for he knew that even in his sleep,I was his prisoner and I was sentenced for life.
RITA MUSIMENTA
