As we stood at the top of the western hill We watched the damn Butterflies invade There were painted in different colors
How we met
As we stood at the top of the western hillWe watched the damn Butterflies invade There were painted in different colors
All looking beautifulBut that was just for a season So little and yet so enough But that passed with the winds
In the morning more and more came They over flowed in our community Haboured in our houses It wasn’t long when them in a foreign land Turned us into foreigners Made us foreigners in our own states
The smiles that they brought Turned into the tears of our hearts The bright colours deemed the Nimble of our joy
Now we can feel them running our emotions Guiding us on how to sneeze They flap their wings in our brains each morning we try to reach them, to get rid of them Their shadows that made you laughAre the shadows that make them cry nowThey are not the beautiful batterflies we used to know The sweet little visitor we let into our Living rooms Is now the monster at the centre of our nightmare.
Angel Phionah Ampurire is a law student at the University of Rwanda
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SKIN COLOUR
It is as striking as we decide for the colour of our skinUnder the hazy moonlight and the flaming sunshine it’s glaringly fineLet it stay bold without an afternoon tanThe allure of its dimness confirms our fierceness
As the universe delimits the sculpture of our natureEvery black spot on our skin befits our original gestureThe deepest darkness in our eyes is the worst fear of a fuming lionThe preys we hunt restlessly are our fatal poison
With every inhalation of strength we fightAll the power, bravery and triumphs of a black battling knight We’ve looked beyond what was told from the dusky pastFrom then and now black has become the brooding light
Agahozo Olga-Divine is a student at Gashora Girls’ Academy