Friday, January 27, 2012

Where Are You Now?


A little mining town called Gwanda,
Buried in Africa's heart.
There I taught in the local school;
I'd only just made a start.
The country was Rhodesia
Which now has another name;
Now it's called Zimbabwe
And things aren't quite the same.
Not a single black child in my roll-call,
(Indians were 'honorary'  Whites);
And, oddly, in the nineteen fifties,
We weren't too aware of 'rights'.
I was fresh out from London,
Intoxicated by the sun,
Very aware of a cast-off past
And a new life just begun.
Felicity is at my right knee;
She lives in the Isle of Man,
And we correspond with each other
As often as we can.
'Flick' is a Granny herself now
I can scarcely believe that's true.
As for the other children,
I wonder 'Where are you?'


Ask them to smile as they're sitting in their places!
They'll purse up their lips or pucker-up their faces.
Some will look 'practised', others rather shy;
Some of them will blush, though I can't think why!
But catch them indirectly and what do I see?
Ladies of the afternoon, chattering at tea.


Jo said...

Hi Brenda, I too lived in Rhodesia in the fifties, was still a child. Sad how things have changed. Thanks for the nostalgia. Greetings Jo (Kenya)

Kay L. Davies said...

Nice to know you've kept in touch with one of your students.