Zebra Crossing

by Meg Vandermerwe

  I fly further. Cross borders. Go back to Beitbridge. At least once a week I hover over the spot where our house and Mama’s Old Trafford once stood. Sadness calls me down, even though I know that Mama is gone, our old house too, and our dreams, well, they were long ago pounded as fine as sadza dust.

  I look. I watch. Then once again it is time for me to move on.

  Acknowledgements

  Thank you: Thomas, Leaticia, Jessie, Donald, Tembi, Guy, Paul, the Jean-Pierres, Alice, Jerome, Papi, Blessing, Tariro and all the others, who shared their stories with me about leaving home and crossing the African continent in the hopes of a better life.

  Thank you, Nwabisa, for your openness and trust. Thank you, Ben-Carl, for the title. Thank you, Professor Duncan Brown and the UWC Arts Faculty, for your generous support. Thank you to Graham Mort, for being a superb supervisor and insightful reader. Thank you, Antjie, for your perceptive advice. Thank you, Tembi Charles, for spotting the ‘lies’. Thank you, Alfred, for your diligence. Thank you, Fourie and Fanie, for being pleasures to work with.