Beneath these bright,
cloudless skies
crowning this luscious, green
country
I sit
under the shade of trees
that rest
at the foot of the volcano...
turning a piece
of lava rock
in my scarred
but lovely hands,
I observe its surface,
porous & rough,
while a gentle breeze
washes over me,
kissing my dark
skin
& rustling the foliage
above...
I close my eyes
and breathe it in,
praying that it
washes away the
scars in my heart
& on my body...
I can smell the lake
on the breeze...
Lake Kivu,
both beautiful
& haunting,
where thousands of
coffee farmers
drown every year
attempting to
smuggle their crops
across the border
after dark
to do business
in an economy
better than their own...
Sounds of bodabodas
& horns,
the bustle of the
market,
& children playing
in the distance
reach my ears...
There is much
to be done...
cooking, cleaning,
& taking care of
my younger siblings...
but I had to
get away,
if only for a
moment...
I open my eyes
& my gaze
falls once
again
to the scars
that cover my body...
scars from a group
of rebels
that passed through
our village,
destroying our homes
& crops,
killing many,
attacking & raping
me and many
other girls
who couldn't get
away fast enough,
first hiding
their siblings
& children they'd born
from past attacks...
The flashbacks
force me
to close my eyes
once again,
trying to blink the
memories away...
I take a deep
breath
& slowly open
these eyes-
these eyes
holding more
pain
&
maturity
than a girl
of fifteen years
should hold...
I take in
my surroundings
and
for the moment
the images are gone...
I stand up slowly,
brushing dirt off my skirt,
and place the lava rock
in my blouse pocket...
I thank the trees
for their shade
& solitude,
then begin my
way back
to the village.
7:30am
[A morning in the life
of a Congolese girl]
