This Dust Storm by Ayesha Kajee

Ayesha Kajee | Nov 18th, 2022 | poetry | 1 Comment


This Dust Storm
(for the women who write and those who fight, despite, despite)

You huffed and you puffed
and you blew our home astray
Till the veil fell, I bore the blind one’s buff
unseen, joy and loss alike swept away
better together our slogan foresworn
memories of play, pieces of peace, all gone
– whirled worlds away
lost to the shifting sands of dust-motes
raised by you breathing ire igniting fire
This dust storm razed the house of straw votes
I held, while monopolies of power align with the liar
I vanish, am vanquished, ground zero’s a pyre
of flimsy foundations
– built upon a barrage
of falsehood, faithless fabrications
– merely a mirage
Half-truths far from the forgotten oasis
where fabled fair-play purports to reign
must be pleasantly hot somewhere there, bliss
– not here, singed by the acrid rain
of acid mistrust, distrust laid bare
a soul-suttee where there’s
no wadi to seed hope
in the desert of desolation
Yet frail hints of jasmine tint the air
We is relinquished, a heart-coup
– alone, adieu
Seeking the Beloved within
I begin to build anew

Poet Bio

Ayesha Kajee is a storyteller, poet and rights activist whose research on governance and democracy in many parts of sub-saharan Africa has been published in various media. Her research interests include post-conflict transformation, socio-economic renewal and gender and environmental rights. She writes because she can’t not.

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