Of copper suns and scarlet seas

Born in SL, I grew up in Africa...

Some of my earliest memories are of the swaying grasses of the savannah as we drove from Zambia to Zimbabwe to Kenya. Long legged giraffes grazing peacefully by the roadside, zebra, elephants and antelope. The blazing hot sun as I ran around the garden.... and the dense exotic smell of the flowers cultivated in dazzling, unruly profusion by my grandfather.

I remember being cuddled by Rose, our housemaid, as she fed me kshima (the local porridge, made of maize). Guests were offered a sumptuous meal whatever time they turned up and I remember my grandma presiding over the kitchen, directing a dozen cooking activities at once... I remember Ms. Launa (Laura?) in Nursery school teaching me to curtsy. I remember running screaming around the playground, colour, race, nationality not yet an "issue".

I remember the gentle spray from the Victoria falls, and my mother saying sweetie, this is the biggest body of falling water in the world. I remember wondering what it would be like go over the edge... the water looks smoother from a distance, I had no concept of the mindless raging swells that would have dashed me to pieces.

I like to think that I still retain an essence of that lush, golden, wonderful continent... that it somehow colours my words, my actions, my thoughts. One friend (who had no knowledge of this piece of my history) said I had an "African aura" around me, words that caused me to smile out loud. Memories still surround me...

Copper carvings of elephants adorn the walls...

Ivory bangles and earrings lie nestled in velvet, too politically incorrect to be worn...

A rhinoceros horn necklace gently decomposes in a sili sili bag, too manky to be stored in velvet, too connected to precious memories (raiding grandma's jewelery box, dancing around with said necklace draped in hair) to throw away...

Malachite ornaments... Copper flower vases... Strange carvings of faces, frozen expressions staring at me staring back.

It's been almost a quarter of a century, memories are faded at best... yet in a strange way, I miss it...

And I yearn to go back...