Yilma Tafere Tasew

New Zealand

Yilma Tafere Tasew was born and grew up in Ethiopia. He was a teacher by profession. He left Ethiopia in 1991, to exile in Kenya Refugee camps. While he was in Kenya, Yilma was a refugee community leader. He has done a lot of advocacy for the refugee community. He has also worked as a social worker for the Lutheran World Federation at Kakuma Refugee Camp, Kenya. While he was in Kakuma Camp, he established the first refugee news bulletin. Then in 1995, with the collaboration of two Australian students who came to visit the camp, he managed to publish a book called Tilting Cages, an anthology of refugee writing, which is a collection of poems and stories from twenty-eight refugee writers, including Yilma. He now lives in Wellington, New Zealand, and is preparing a collection of his poetry, Diasporic Ghosts - accompanied by critical essays on exile and refugee issues for publication in May 2005.

BMP12

nzpoetsonline

BMP12

nzpoetsonline

IF I COULD

If I could go

Wherever I want

Across the mountains

The rivers, the oceans,

And the borders, boundaries

If I could…

Fly - travel as I wish,

Without passports, visas,

Any identification

Without being interrogated,

Afraid of persecution

Prison, torture and execution

I could have come home

If I could

Mum, Dad, Bro, Sis

Friend, fellow

I could have been

Home with you

Whenever I feel

Homesick

I miss you

If I could

Fly without landing,

On airport, airstrip

Without asking

Anyone permission

Without being interrogated

Asked where I am from

Which race, nationality

Ethnicity, clan,

Religion

I belong to

If I could

Disguise myself

Externally, being

You, not me

Physically

By miracle or demon

I wish I was

You, with a wing

Without nationality

Tribe, ethnicity, race

If I could

Say, arriving home

It’s me - Mum and Dad

Bro, Sis

I come to see you,

Give me a hug

A kiss

Don’t you miss me?

For decades

Hi, it’s me!

If I could

I could fly now

Leaving today,

Yesterday behind

Where my heart is

Which all tears,

Words, sorrows,

Rages can’t explain

If I could

I can’t wait to open

My heart,

To show how lonely,

Isolated

Miserable

I am

Without you

Vaguely,

Visualising you

If I could

If I could fly

Without being labelled

Accused of which

I am not

If I could return

To my homeland,

Village, city

Which I’ve missed

For decades

If I could

If I could

Change my appearance

Having wings to fly

If I was you

Physically I could have

Gone,

Flown, home

To Mum, Dad

My homeland village

If I could

If I could

If I could 

18 April, 2004, Wellington, New Zealand.

RECONCILE!

Let me be,

In Peace,

Forgiving

Myself, others

Let me reconcile

Let me live

With false

Reality

Knowing

Contemplating

Meditating

To move on

Not off

Let me reconcile

Let me swim

Out

Quickly, hardly

Striving

Out of trauma,

Stress

Depression.

Out of anger

Rage,

With the support of

My counsellor

Therapist,

Walking stick

My pen,

Let me reconcile.

Let me put

Behind,

The gloomy

Past, present

Creating

Fantasy of

Bright future

Bringing from

Nowhere

Nonexistent

World

A better place,

Let me reconcile

Let me create

Even though for

The moment

That wishful

Spirit

Let me create

My own

Imaginative

Aesthetic, artistic

Peace,

Let me reconcile.

Let me drug

Myself

For a while,

With imaginative

Emptiness

Void happiness

Whether it helps

Or not

Let me reconcile.

When watching

From on top

Of Mount Victoria

The shining city

And its

Waterfront

At night

Wellington’s

Beauty

Let me feel

Myself with

Imaginative hope

Against bleak

Present, past

Future

Lighting its fake

Candle

Let me hunt

Peace

Let me reconcile

Not yearn

For my homeland

Across the oceans,

Let me swim

With temporary

Insanity

Rhythm,

Imagined orchestra

Pie in the sky,

Let me reconcile.

Let me wear

Masks

Pretending

Nothing

Has happened,

Is happening,

Will happen,

Like the pleasure

Of frost,

Which disappears

With daylight

Reality

Let me create

Inside my dark

Shadow

A light of glass

Breakable

Let me reconcile.

I am fed up,

Staying inside

My traumatic

Shell, ghost

Let me come

Out

Make a living

Avoid surviving

Let me wake up

From life time

Fantasy

Be powerless

Hug cuddle

Defeat, despairing

Let me give up

Weeping

Crying

Say ‘goodbye’

Temporarily

To life time

Companions

Trauma, stress

Hallucination

Victims’ rage

Let me reconcile.

Let me create

A ladder

Of cooked

Spaghetti

Let me try

To climb

On top of

Cheap success

Temporarily

Let me be

Mad, crazy

Out of myself

Let me reconcile.

With my contradictory

Self

Let me create

Artificial

Breakable Peace

Which finishes,

Ends me

To ash,

Let me fake

Happiness

Change, Peace

With everyone

Myself

Let me reconcile.

Let me create

Chain of hope

Out of

Spiders’ web,

Let me drink

Peace

Out of my

Worn-out

Smelly

Boots,

Whether it helps

Or not

Let me create

Peace of

Artificiality

Let me reconcile.

RECONCILE!

RECONCILE!

RECONCILE!

Sunday July 27, 2003,

Wellington, New Zealand