Authentic

Just the other day,
I asked a friend;
"do you Ugandans-
have an accent?"
She thought for a second,
then turned to reply,
"no, not really, well it depends."
And I'm thinking wow,
such an ambiguous answer,
then she goes and asks, "why?"

Well...

Thoughts on the Igbo's,
and their thick lavish accents,
made me wonder my decent.
I mean it's rather quaint,
but worth contemplating.

See I wanted to create-
something for one to relate,
something the Ugandan in me-
would own entirely,
something that wouldn't steal-
my so called "African-ism."

My first road block-
was that English is British,
and there's no way to own it-
even if mine is relatively polished,
yet also, American-ish

So I have this ism of ish,
going on about me...
I'm African-ish, American-ish,
Brit-ish yet also myself-ish.
I'm like a queer fish;
everyone is trying to hook me.

So anyway, I hopped that block,
and took a turn round the corner,
and there it was again,
the damn road block!

I had no "IGWEH," nor "KINEKE,"
Or even a click to my speech...
I was disappointed,
I felt naked!

So there I was, stripped,
everyone staring at me-
my tiny balls, my little hairy chest,
feeling ashamed yet astounded-
I couldn't believe I felt unauthentic.

I mean I spoke this language,
I called it mine too,
But, you know it's sketchy,
it lacked root,
it lacked that, how can I say-
je ne sai quoi (french-ish),
or in layman's language "authenticity,"
so I felt like I didn't belong...

Then again,
with these "road blocks,"
I sat down and wrote,
upon realisation in my mind,
that root is not my route,
and that this that I wrought;
is my kind of poetry...

It helps me sink my pen
into ink wells untapped,
to seek deep fresh inspiration-
to replenish me like zam zam.
It helps me express myself,
exquisitely using refined styles,
reborn and re-structured;
It helps me be me,
a being that understands,
languages are for expression,
cultures are for taming,
religions are for grooming,
prayer is a medium,
and "God" is for creation..

And the creator-
made an authentic being.