Out of darkness, I was birthed
In pain and agony, I was formed
My Mother, a blind pauper
My Father , a robber and a rapist.
I came into the world a hustler
I never cuddled or fumbled
Always on point or the streets would swallow me whole.
I learnt to sprint, run and flee
From victims whose possessions were safely tucked inside my shirt.
I was a collector, a provider.
A little sister came along and I hated my mum for it
Why bring another to suffer?
Baffles my mind…
My anger at my helplessness consumed me
When I discovered my Mum was a dumping ground for rejected seeds
She was helpless and defenseless
Who could help us?
Who would help her?
I ran away from my mum and the helpless baby.
I would go and build a house
I would come back with a car
I would be the Savior they’d been looking for.
I wandered again into the darkness
And I found a brotherhood, willing to accept
And train me to become a person.
I had to give and sacrifice
I had to entrap and enslave
I became the grim reaper’s messenger
The middle man for death
I took their clothes and jewelries
I made their money and valuables my own.
The cars I couldn’t keep
The houses I never saw
But my masters assured and confirmed
That with time I’d make my first million
I can’t say I’m happy they died
I can’t say I’m not happy they did
They care about them
I care about me
It’s the survival of the strongest, baddest and wickedest
I am wicked, I learnt to be
I have a house and car now.
But I didn’t find my mum or my little sis
I heard another me took them away and now they are being spent
In the lofty boutiques of the big towns
I am looking for a woman
To share my new life with
So I can be normal and have a family
but I have a weight on my shoulder
I don’t know if I can bear for so long
The life I made is better
Way better than the life that was given me
I made me and I like me.
by Charis Black.
For those who do not understand, this is a prose-poetry that narrates the life and experience of a young man who had to struggle hard to survive. He decided to help himself to life after being denied the life he deserved right from birth. He became an instrument for destruction and because of the lessons he had learned in life his heart became hardened and he justified his wickedness – Survival. There was no Savior and so he became his own Savior. You can hardly blame him. In his case “when life gives you lemons – You make bitter lemonades”. But more people like him can be prevented, it’s in our hands, we can end it.