When Love Kills



Roy was a very quite, punctual and handsome young man.He was more interested in his studies and in sports than in ladies. Some said Roy was that type of a child who was focused in his life. He had a self-drive, zeal and enthusiasm to realise his ultimate goal of becoming an Engineer. Engineering was a profession that he loved so dearly. Such a passion ignited his zeal to diligently concentrate with his books and not the female specie. Roy was a serious young man who brooked no nonsense. But he had another good side of him. The other version of him.  He was cool and friendly but a bit reserved. Roy could not even pay attention to the puerile giggles of the young girls at College.

Samantha had shown interest in him, but she eventually gave up the chase. So was Charlotte who also chased after Roy, but all these advances failed to lure Roy. All the potential admirers dismally failed to win his heart. Some say love is a problem when it comes later in life. This saying has some grains of truth when it comes to Roy’s love life. As months and years raced against each other Roy was starting to develop a liking for the female specie. It was one sunny afternoon that his eyes met with Miriam’s eyes. She was sitted at the opposite end of the Restaurant, she was finishing her meal at the Campus Restaurant. It was love at first sight. From the eye contact, the chemistry was made easier. The Rest is History. Roy and Miriam fell deeply in love. Roy was head over heels, he was truly drowning in the pool of love. In Miriam’s words she kept on saying good things about Roy,


 “The way he laughs makes me smile, and the way he talks gives me butterflies and just everything about him makes me happy… I love him


For real love was in the air. Things changed when Miriam started dating another guy from a sister University. It was on Sunday 27 April 2011 in the afternoon when Roy knocked on Miriam’s hostel. He was greeted by the other boyfriend who opened the door for him. Roy just pushed his way through, Gosh!! there was his Miriam half-naked lying on the bed, holding a pillow covering her face. Roy stood speechless for a minute before dashing out of the room without uttering any word. He could not stomach seeing Miriam semi- nude enjoying the comfort of another man.

His lifeless body was swerving sideways. His eyes were wide open, the shoe lashes were tightly tied. Miriam rushed at the scene were a swarm of other students were already gathered. Some were crying loudly, some with tears silently cascading down the contours of their faces. She was numb and she nearly froze to the ground. She broke down weeping. The police came and placed Roy’s corpse in their police van. They only discovered in Roy’s pockets a short note addressed to Miriam.



What Happened to Harare- (Sunshine City) : An Oasis of Poverty in a Desert of Plenty

Trying to eke a living in the streets of Harare is a 15yr old Tariro whose parents died of HIV/AIDS when she was only 10. It is 5years now. At the age of 15 Tariro is now a breadwinner in the filthy streets of Harare. She looks over her young brother aged 11. She has been unfortunate in life. Whilst, other young children are blowing candles, cutting cakes and licking ice-cream on their birthdays, Tariro is busy rummaging and sifting through the garbage. As others are singing ‘happy birthday to you’ Tariro is burying her head in the mountain of garbage searching for plastic bottles. Thanks so much to the city fathers who have been inefficient in cleaning the city. Innocent souls like Tariro can now eke a living. There is nobody to take care of Tariro and her younger brother especially in these difficult times of economic meltdown. Life in Harare is now a survival of the fittest. Tariro has also discovered that, you have to hustle in order to make it economically and financially.

Unlike some other dormant towns were life is slow and dull, Harare the so called Sunshine City is full of activity. But, to survive you have to fight hard. Everyone in Harare seems to be in a hustling mood. With the dilapidated economy many Harareans have been forced into the informal economy. It is mostly the women folk who are engaged in various entrepreneurial activities like vending, hawking etc. With babies on their backs you could easily spot them standing at the road intersections selling air time vouchers (mobile credits). That is life for you in Harare. Some are just sited in the pavements of various buildings selling vegetables, needles, stockings, tie, wallets, biscuits and plastic bags. At a tender age, Tariro has also joined hundreds if not thousands of people who are trying to eke a living in the streets of Harare.

However, her business seems to be unique. She has been pushed into the business of scavenging and garbage collection. Mainly Tariro collects plastic containers especially 500ml of empty fizzy drinks from the Central Business District. These empty containers have a ready market in recycling industries scattered all over the heavy and light industrial sites in Harare. As of late, many waste management firms have withdrawn collection services across the capital Harare, citing a lack of gasoline, spare parts and equipment. Eventually, garbage has become a common sight in the central business district. Harare was at one point a marvel of many. One begins to wonder. What happened to the Sunshine City we used to emulate and take pride in? Harare used to be exceptionally smart, to an extent that it was named a Sunshine City. But as to date, it is becoming hard if not difficult for the city to restore itself to its former glory of being a Sunshine City. What happened to the tantalizing scent and fresh breeze of sunshine city? What happened to those beautiful Jacaranda trees?
Our daily newspapers have been awash with the reports of corruption in our local municipal councils. From the newspaper and news headlines we can glean that all is not well when it comes to the administration of our once precious city of Harare. We are forced to believe that the city fathers have abandoned the needs of the citizenry at the expense of ‘corrupt activities’ that include opaque issuance of tender bids, parceling of stands and collection of various taxes etc. As we drive in the congested streets of Harare we are greeted with potholes and garbage strewn all over. Sooner or later, these potholes will become boreholes.
Our streets have become dangerous especially at night. Streets kids and streets fathers are scattered all over the corners of the city. Lovebirds now fear to take a stroll during the night, gazing at the beautiful neon lights. We all now fear to walk during the night. Some areas have become hot spots, as they are poorly lit. Dysfunctional traffic lights also make life more difficult for both pedestrians and motorists. Harare is now experiencing epileptic power supply time and again. But be reminded, Zimbabwe we have one of the richest alluvial diamond deposits in the world.


We are also now used to receiving erratic water supply such that public toilets now produce a strong stench. We are told in the second largest city in Zimbabwe in Bulawayo residents are being advised to wait and flush the toilets once per day. Never mind the health repercussions! Also bear in mind that we have vast dams just to name Wenimbe dam (Marondera) and Osborne Dam. Brothels are also on the increase making brisk business. We only hear of empty threats of closing them. But no action is being taken. We are tempted to think that the owners of these brothels are the politically connected, the guys up there!

Our mothers are now selling macimbi (worms from mopane trees), biltong (dried chunks of meat), and roasted nuts at the entrance of most clubs in Harare. It seems people are just doing as they please in search of survival. Young girls of the age of Tariro are selling their bodies. Prostitution has become a pastime in Zimbabwe. Avenues and Strathaven has become common with prostitutes. These are the Red Lights of Zimbabwe. Used condoms are just strewn all over in our capital. Commuter omnibus are just picking passengers (commuters) from undesignated terminuses. Satellite dishes are dotted at the roof of every flat in town. Everything just seems haphazard. What happened to our Sunshine City?

Children pick up rotten eggs from a heap of uncollected garbage in Mbare, a township southwest of Harare, Zimbabwe. Innocence and purity is written all over their faces. But the pythons of poverty are eating through to their hearts!

“The sun,–the bright sun, that brings back, not light alone, but new life, and hope, and freshness to man–burst upon the crowded city in clear and radiant glory. Through costly-coloured glass and paper-mended window, through cathedral dome and rotten crevice, it shed its equal ray.” Charles Dickens.

Revisiting the discourse of ‘Politics of Sex and Marriage’: Moving the Gender Debate Forward








The debate on gender and women’s rights in this 21st century seems to be an ongoing debate, which is not yet closed. However, what is more worrying is the fact that most of the literature on the above discourse seems to be more activist than scholarly as much as it ignores/masks the grounded truth and reality of our times. Whether this is by accident or by designs nobody really knows. The gender debate still remains an elite preserve, ring fenced with academic scholarship, whilst the reading on the ground indicates otherwise. Most of the sanitized versions that have surrounded the gender debate remain veiled under the velvet curtains. Ultimately much scholarship on this discourse has done little in trying to address and unpack the central and fundamental issues that affect the ‘ordinary woman’ either in the sprawling high density suburb of Mumbai or in the rural Masai area in  Third World countries like  Kenya.

However, our society seems to be in a transition as much as it is also entangled in ‘power struggles’ across gendered lines as the balance of power seems to be tilting from men to women. There seems to be a general understanding that women’s rights crusade is an idea whose time has come. However, what remain puzzling and mind boggling is the fact that some fundamental issues or debates are left closed as the society grapple with the issues of gender, feminism and women’s rights. This has been motivated by a host of factors ranging from culture, politics, religion, economics to name just but a few. The society now chooses to be silent on some other issues, whilst becoming vocal on other aspects. This then raises more questions than answers. There are hotly contested issues of paying bride price/dowry mostly in African societies. How justified is the fact that society still demand men to ‘pay’ to get a woman either through cash, cows, cars, plasma televisions and other hefty demands that are being charged by the bride’s parents.

The argument being that this custom is as old as humanity itself and is culturally embedded in our societies. However, the truth of the matter is that, all these payments will lead to gender based violence. Evidence is abound of communities were bride price has become a source of ‘conflict’ under the famous statement that I ‘bought you’. As much as the society trivializes and sweeps such statements under the carpet, this is a reality of our times that is unfortunately occurring just under the nose of feminist activists who are scattered like sheep across the globe.

Why does the society believe in ‘selling humankind’? Is love pronounced in paying huge sums of money to the bride’s family? One might be forgiven for arguing that what matters is the mutual trading of the heart between the two. Then, why does marriage come with a huge price to pay, with women being viewed as objects or gadgets to be traded? After paying such huge sums are the rural women in a position to exercise their conjugal rights? All your guesses are as good as mine. Do cows and Mercedes Benz and suits cement relationship between families, one will tend to wonder. And is the whole process of paying bride price democratic or it’s a give and take, where there is no room for collective bargaining, appeal or sentiments.

Marriage by Accident


We might argue and argue until chickens come home to roost, but many issues remain unaddressed in the contemporary gender debate. Indeed the ‘story’ of marriage is indeed a bad story with a bad ending in most societies, especially in the so called developing countries.Why?If people marry for the wrong reasons or are not able to justify or know the reasons why they marry or get married, the world then seems to be going nowhere. Many trivial and narrow justifications on why people marry seem to be gaining weight in the day. To African men, most of the times, the justification for marrying is to get a helping hand or to have children.

Whether this argument holds much water is a subject of debate that is ominously missing in the gender literature. Juxtaposing the African scenario with that in the so called ‘developed’ countries, we often see many marriages without children. This is mostly out of a conscious decision and not by biological default. So do people really marry so as to reproduce, that is to bear as many children as the proverbial sand in the sea?

Such arguments are problematic and misleading as much as they are simplistic, cold and frozen across time and space. Through extensive research on this subject, it emerged very clearly that the idea of marrying to have a helper seems to have a home in most societies. It has been argued that even biblically it is implicitly stated. However, be it as it may, the world seem to be divided on the reasons why marriages do happen. A worrying scenario is the fact that the rural women is then reduced into being and doing everything ranging from cooking, farming, care work etc. as she is said to have been married to help her husband’s family. Even under the raging monster of domestic violence, women defy all odds in their pursuit to stay put.

More often, we hear the phrase ‘I will stay for my ‘children’. This will then clearly reinforce the argument that the women got married for the sake of children. Is marriage therefore, an associational life, an institution to bear children, to have sex, happiness, companionship or to have a helping hand in the journey of life. As one tries to open the Pandora Box, it becomes very clear that women’s rights are being trampled upon due to many other factors that society has chosen to be silent about. Unfortunately these are the very issues that should be at the core and marrow of the gender debate.

The more we become silent about it, and the more we fear to tread on these areas, gender based violence will continue to bear its ugly head and permeate to the very core of our societies. It is because of all our failures to diagnose and interrogate the underlying issues beneath the politics of sex, gender and marriage, that we all stand guilt to be judged for failing to pursue the emancipation of the marginalized women to its logical conclusion. Is it because of their sex, that women should not express their love to men? Who said men are the only ones vested with the right to propose love to women? Why not the other way round? So shall women bottle their emotions and die inside just because of our culture (s).

If it is our culture that denies women their right to choose and the freedom to speak out their minds, great is the sin of our culture. The time is  nigh to remove the veneer of tokenism in women’s emancipation, which we seem to have all touted much about, whilst doing nothing in the broadest sense of the stretch of the phrase itself. We seem all guilty also for camouflaging the real problems either through our feminism scholarship and movements!!!!! Let’s all come out of the comfort zones of elite gender conferences and identify with the real suffering woman in the remotest rural area! The time is now or Never….Let’s move from rhetoric to action.



Struggle for a New Constitution in Zimbabwe: Victims, Saviors and Savages Metaphor!

By 1984 Samuel P. Huntington seemed to have Zimbabwe in mind when he observed that, “By reason of their poverty or violence of their politics, African states were unlikely to move in a democratic direction”. Taking from the Zimbabwe constitutional impasse we can all be convinced by Huntington’s projection. At an hour when many transitologists were beginning to think that Zimbabwe was now moving towards a right step in the democratization process. That is when the democratization train was derailed and thrown out of the rails. The stalemate over the constitution making process came as a surprise to many who had long anticipated for a ‘people-driven’ constitution in Zimbabwe. Such a sad development is akin to a situation of postponing democracy. Many mistakenly thought that, the adoption of a new people driven constitution was going to mark an end stage of democratisation: when democracy becomes the only game in town. Poor Us! Little did we know that dreaming about democracy in Zimbabwe is easier whilst achieving it seems a mammoth task. As long as we have a postponed democratic transition several issues need to be addressed.

Having deadlocked over the constitution a transition to democracy remains hazy? Who is going to break the impasse? At what costs are political parties willing to negotiate? Will they negotiate in good faith and will they be sincere in their deliberations? In actual fact do politicians have the mandate to negotiate, edit and write the constitution? If so, why hiring expert drafters Crozier, Chinhengo and Madzonga in the first place? Wasn’t this akin to hoodwinking the people by creating an imaginary democracy? Although, many believed that the COPAC agreed draft was not the best, taking from the MDC metaphor of the ‘good, bad and ugly’. Nonetheless, many believed it was wiser and beneficial to give the draft a chance. Many citizens believed that it was a better draft as compared to the Lancaster House constitution. To this end, many people believed that, “half a loaf is better than nothing”. Thus many citizens and civics whilst acknowledging that the agreed compromise draft constitution was not the best at least they saw it as a workable document. However, in some quarters both from the civil society and from the MDC some believed that this document was good as a transitional document. The assumption being that if adopted the document would bring in democratic reforms that would lead to free and fair elections in the short term.

However, those behind this thinking went further to suggest that after adoption of such a constitution, progressive democratic forces will then sit down and author a new democratic and people driven constitution in the long term. Abednico Bhebhe is reportedly to have echoed these words whilst addressing a rally in Matebeleland. Meaning to say, the agreed COPAC draft was supposed to be viewed as a ‘transitional piece of paper’ that would be later amended if not discarded after paving way for a new democratic, free and fair and credible election. However, this thinking is also very misleading and problematic. It is problematic in the sense that we tend to forget whether it’s MDC, Mavambo, MDC 99 that will be in power. There will always be opposition political parties, either ZANU PF or ZAPU et al. Strictly speaking; political parties and their supporters will always have particular party positions and interests that will never be incorporated in the constitution. To this end, we will never have a constitution making process that is free from political manipulation. Every constitution making process will always respond to the politics of the day. So was the situation in Nepal, Kenya and South Africa.

Hence, what may be viewed as ‘democratic and people driven’ at each particular point in time, may be viewed by some as not. Taking from sectoral groups, such as LGBT groups, commercial white farmers, new farmers, youth, traditional leaders, workers ,peasants, church, civil society,women,the disabled, NGOs and other stakeholders we will always have competing interests. Hence, these actors will always lobby for their particular positions to be included in a constitution. Ultimately, negotiations and compromises are inevitable. So to speak of a constitution that will please everyone seems utopian. At each particular epoch, we will always have competing contestations. Indeed coming up with a perfect document will be difficult if not impossible. Rather, what is easy is coming up with a compromise document.

As we are grappling, trying to construct democracy we should realize that a constitution will never be authored by all of us. There will always be some men and women (elites) who will sit down and decide, discard and sift our views. We the ordinary people will always remain the victims of political scheming and shenanigans. Whilst, the ordinary citizen is a victim of this political process, the politicians through their cunning and deceitful means will make us believe that they are sincere about limiting their powers in the new constitution. They all massage the truth so as to appear as the saviors who are able to offer us a better constitution unlike the Lancaster house constitution. In actual fact the politicians are the savages who are bent on stifling and muzzling any democratic space by entrenching executive powers in the proposed constitution.

However, coming to our failed transition we will all agree with the assertion that ‘democracy is expensive’. In actual fact we should be demanding apologies and convincing explanations from our politicians. Why in the first place did we go for a consultative outreach when they knew they will reject people’s views? What was the logic behind the exercise? Why the waste of millions of dollars? Suddenly the narrative about people driven has become very confusing. In all this unfolding drama the ordinary citizen remains the victim of political scheming. From the 2nd All stakeholders conference, which way now? Are we done with the political bickering and grandstanding? Probably, a more legitimate question to ask is whether Zimbabwe will have a new constitution? If so will the constitution be a ‘people driven’? Only time will tell!!!!

Ants and Elephants

In every struggle there are victims. Unfortunately, the victims are always the ants. They are always caught in between the hooves of the elephants. They are squashed to the ground. Whilst, others are drinking Cappuccino coffee in five star hotels, the ants are at the receiving end of violence (the ordinary people). As they drink milk shakes whilst discussing violence, the ordinary people are being cut of their legs and arms into the famous ‘short-sleeve’. They are always the suffering ants. Whilst elephants make love, the ants continue to be squashed beneath the hooves. When elephants fight the same ants continue to suffer!


Dying for Beliefs

His wish was to one day build a beautiful mansion in gratitude to the sacrifices of her mum towards his upkeep and education. Ruka walked a distance of approximately 10 km to and from the nearby Mushumbi high school. He travelled all these kilometers every day on bare foot. His single mon could not afford to buy him even the cheapest pair of rubber sandals (nyatera). It was so touching to see Ruka step in the school toilets with his bare feet. Despite the fact that he walked to school bare footed, Ruka managed to excel academically. He passed with flying colours in all his subjects. He was academically gifted so to speak. It is on a Friday afternoon on the 25th of June 2008. Ruka is coming from school. His mind is thinking about watering the garden. He is also thinking of going to search for cattle in the forests. As he arrives home, he is startled to see neighbours standing at their homestead.

From a distant he could sense that all is not well. Their granary has been burnt to ashes.Who did this and why? All these thoughts stream to Ruka’s mind. Before he could even open his mouth to ask questions. He catches a glimpse of his mother lying in agony. All they can tell him is that she had been beaten by war veterans and rowdy youths (euphemistically known as green bombers). In tears he breaks down to touch his mother’s bruised arm. As she struggles to breathe her last breath, she only manage to say,

‘Look well after your young sister’.

Ruka could feel the loosening of the grip of her mom’s hand. With these words, a life is taken from this earth. As of today Ruka seeks solace and comfort in the fact that her mother died for her political beliefs. The very fact and belief that she is resting in eternal peace, gives him the energy and faith to live peacefully with his enemies. What only tortures and pierces to the core and marrow of his heart, is his unfulfilled wish. With the fullness of life, he had wished to one day build a beautiful mansion for his

Psalms 37:9 For evildoers shall be cut off: but those that wait upon the LORD, they shall inherit the earth.

Pillar to Post

Tanyaradzwa was coming from school when she heard the noise of the caterpillar and bulldozers. It was uncommon to see caterpillars and bull dozers in a high density suburb like Mufakose. From a distant, the terrifying sound and noise of the caterpillars could be heard. It was lunch hour. Like other kids Tanyaradzwa was rushing home to enjoy her unfinished slices of bread. Tanyaradzwa was always late for school. On this fateful day, Tanya as she was normally called by her mom had been late for school by almost thirty-minutes. Her mother had forgotten to pack her small white lunch box in her paper bag. To this end, Tanyaradzwa was very hungry. As she rushed home for lunch, all what was in her mind was the home-made slices of bread spread with peanut butter. She also remembered that she had left a piece of biltong (dried meat) meat from the previous supper.

Tanyaradzwa could not even delay any second playing fishy-fishy (a childhood game played by young girls). She headed straight for home. As she neared towards home, she saw a huge smoke curling into the thin air. Their homestead was covered in dust and black smoke. Small kids of her age were clapping hands and following the soldiers and guys who were operating the caterpillars. Tanya’s mother was lying on top of their little belongings. She was crying uncontrollably. She was visibly shaken. ‘Oh! God my house, my house!” she could be heard shouting at the top of her shrill voice. However, all her cries fell on deaf ears. Tanya was quick to recognize that their cabin made from wood and plastic had been razed down to the ground.


To make matters worse, it was winter period. Tanya and her mother had no food, water nor shelter. The cold spell came. They cuddled together during the long, painful and sleepless nights. They cuddled together, trying to share the warmth of their bodies. A place they used to call home had been reduced to mere rubbles. The memory of the plastic shack they used to call a place of permanency was still fresh in their minds. This was an era of Operation Murambatsvina (Clean-up campaign) that was carried by the Zimbabwean government to wipe away illegal structures in the urban areas. In the words of the South African Judge Ngcobo we are reminded that,

It is not only the dignity of the poor that is assailed when homeless people are driven from pillar to post in a desperate quest for a place where they and their families can rest their heads. Our society as a whole is demeaned when State action intensifies rather then mitigates their marginalization. The integrity of the rights-based vision of the Constitution is punctured when governmental action augments rather than reduces denial of the claims of the desperately poor to the basic elements of a decent existence.

For Tanyaradzwa, (Tanya) it will take a very long period for her to forget how their house was destroyed. As she continues with her primary education at a local school in her maternal parents’ rural area in Musana communal lands, the sight of the bulldozers still haunts her in her sleep. For Tanya’s mom, being a single mom has not been easy. Being evicted and sleeping in the cold, chilly and long July nights with a young child was not easy either. In the end, it is the poor people who are at the receiving end of the effects and impact policy inconsistency in Africa!


Hello Democracy

By 1789 great men in history
Idealized great imaginations
To set up
Not only setting,
But crafting and carving
Fundamentals upon which
Humanity, conscience, liberty springs
In the galleries of human kind

Hats off to Rousseau, Montesquieu
Being the messiahs
Then some being the disciples
Today we have to go back
Back not in a memory lane
But back to their lives
The epitaphs on their graves
There lie great men

As of now we can afford to abuse and misuse
For what they sat
The train they sat in motion
Has been derailed
The tenets they fought for
Have been prostituted,
Plundered, abused and scorned at…,

By the beholder
Chirambakusakara has divorced himself with them
Mr. White has also felt left out
In the race to be outdone
You have all emerged victors
In abusing democracy,
You justify your actions,
You say democracy is only but,
A promiscuous mistress?

As of now-when shall we say hello democracy?
A day when one fears not
A faint knock on the door after dusk
In a world where there will be more weddings than funerals
You taught us to fear even killing a fly
But your disciples kill even elephants
The say you are a promiscuous mistress
When shall we shake hands?
And greet you

With a feigned smile on our faces
But, it is only a day amongst the days
That it will not be long
Before you pay us a visit
Together we will weep
Weeping and mourning,

Mourning the death of your tenets
For it is a great stab in our back
A torture in the psyche of us
Before we give you a big hug
And a pat on the back
Our hands we will stretch to you
Maybe you will give a lifeless handshake in return
Hello Democracy.

The Tragedy of Our Times…

For they all drink
Bottled water
For it is pure
And they all like…
The fruit juice
For it oils their veins
For it makes their meetings lively
In their tables they drink
They talk business
The business how they will govern us

For our fate is decided over orange crush
They talk over the fate of the poor
Thy drink what the poor can never afford to drink
S/he can never afford the fruit juice
But she produces the oranges
But her fate is decided over oranges
After drinking the juice
They never take action

Next time they call for another talk show
They drink again
On their table is bottled water
But in your village you drink from the well
It is a well were frogs and snails swim and bath
And over mineral water they discuss your fate
You only crave and envy their drinking habits
For your mouth is sour and dry
One day you shall also drink the Orange crush?
What a nation?

It is run over Mineral Water and Orange crush,
Coffee breaks,
Buffet lunch,
When they are not in the hotels,
They will be in the state of the art offices
Designing policies
Afterwards, they will sit on the high table
Drinking Mineral Water and Orange crush
What a Nation

The Cruel Hand of Death…

I hear your cries,

I see you mourning,

I see your sorrowful face,

I see your suffering heart,

I suffer with you,

I see you in agony,

I agonize with you,

As you shed tears,

Tear drops also slip from the corner of my eye,

I also shed a tear,


I cry with you,

Each time I hear about death,

Part of me dies,

I feel for you,

In your time of grief and bereavement,


For when death visits us,

It shatters our hearts,

Our minds remain troubled,

As we struggle to,

Recreate our loved ones,

We imagine their smiles,

Jokes, we mimic their talking,

We try to capture,


Their faces,but often

We fail……


Like blossoming flowers,

We feel their lives were pluck too soon,

We all wish they had stayed,

We all wish we had spoken to them,

Before they unceremoniously left us,

In the end, we all hope,

They will find serenity in the silence of death,


For our tears will never and will not,

Bring them back,

We will have heart aches,

We will have fond memories,

We will grieve forever,

But we will never see them again,

Life will never be the same again,

It is the cruel hand of death,

That makes us temporary residents,

On this Mother Earth….


The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.”  J.K Rowling