Gogo

African communities were always a novelty for those that left the continent. The people in the diaspora would either see the negative and not want to come back or will just treat it as a vacation spot and a source for nostalgia then going back to their respective new homes.

Little Lucy was born in the outskirts of Southern Malawi, her Mother took her to the United Kingdom when she had just turned three, growing up in Belfast was very strange but as it was all she knew; she grew to love and embrace her home. Her mother would always tell her that she will send her back home to her grandmother, to mean she would be sent if she continued to misbehave. She became the scary grandmother who deals with difficult children, a cautionary tale for diaspora-raised kids.

At first I used to dread my grandmother so much, but as I grew I realised that she was my only source of identity as the people here made me feel like I didn’t belong yet my grandmother would always say; Lucy come see me so I can carry you and tell you amazing stories. I decided to go see her and spend some time with her, after saving up I was finally able to go to the continent, the land of my ancestprs, home of M’bona, John Chilembwe, Rose Chi and more, the warm heart of Africa.

I couldn’t remember my grandchild at first but after I heard a voice that reminded me of Sir Harry Johnstone. My grandchild speaking like the ones that moved my grand father from Blantyre and made him and his family settle further south. I was happy to hear her and everyday was a new day where I would tell her tales of old, of Makasu Band, of thee Chisiza and more.

Seeing Granny and realizing she is very chatty in person made me happy, the village depended on her for she was such a strong woman, she was like Noah except for the crazy wild animals and the big boat, she fed the village with food from her farm and helped them when she killed her farm animals. I was only supposed to stay for a month but I had extended my stay to 2 due to the sickness that befell my gogo.

Who knew that old age was catching up as I was enjoying my time with my grandchild, I started feeling weak and would rely on Lucy to help with the day to day activities. It was fun for her as all of it was just experiences from stories she heard and moviews she had seen. It was all fun until I developed a fever and that was when I saw the Joy slowly leaving my beautiful grandchild.

I had heard stories that Old Age in the motherland was a curse, I had heard stories of how to avoid the ageism by attaining wealth. All of these were lies because people would come and see my gogo and still expect things from her but when they leave they would call her a witch, they would not help at all but instead expected me to do everything else. That was what annoyed me but I could not say much for I was not old enough to ridicule the elders according to customs and culture. I was saddened that my stay was now over and I needed to go back for I was a student with multiple jobs that needed lest I don’t finish school.

Lucy needed to go back and finish school, She promised to be back as soon as she finished the semester and she begged me to stay strong and healthy so that when she is back, we could enjoy our time together again. As soon as she left, I got sick again and now there was nobody to help, no one to help and no one to take care of my farm. People started stealing from me and it didn’t take long before I had nothing left to my little Lucy’s name. I got so sick and people would be celebrating in the village, they would be laughing as I am in pain, surely I wasn’t becoming the gogo in the Makasu Band’s song; but alas the song became my reality and I quietly accepted it before they branded me a Witch and kill me for such is the plight of old people in this country.

I called one of the young people that used to work for my gogo, I called because my gogo’s phone wasn’t working and none of her workers would pick up their phone. So I remembered that Perseverance was back from school and he could go check on my gogo. Perseverance texted me back and all he said was “I am sorry Lucy, gogo is nomore and I couldn’t go in because the villagers had burned her house”. I was sad, I was broken for she was the only link I had, she was the only parent I acknowledged and she was the only ray of sunshine and hope for me to fight with work and school. I desperately needed to feel her presence and I remembered that she had packed things for me when I was leaving. I opened the bag to find pumpkin leaves in a plastic bag and under the bag was a piece of paper that I had never seen before.

I had hoped she would call me back and say gogo, I got your letter but would you please translate since it is written in Chichewa. No such call came and I figured it was because life in the diaspora is very fast, because she is busy then she must be working hard at her jobs and school, she will probably find me on her next holiday. It was whilst deep in thought that I felt a pang in my head and as I turned to look, two of my helpers were standing there holding my land papers, then I heard drip,drip and felt a warm liquid on my head. I touched my head and saw my hand dressed in a new red glove, I thought back to the food that one of the helpers had been giving me and how it was strange that she was no longer eating with me, I thought back to how the other helper was going through my belongings and claimed I had misplaced an item. I looked at them and smiled as I slowly closed my eyes, truly I had become the gogo of the Makasu Song but even worse, I opened my eyes and the helpers were shocked, one run out of the house and started screaming “witch, witch, come and see”, people saw the blood and claimed that I was doing a money ritual on my helpers. They locked me in and set my house ablaze.

Dear Lucy,
If you are reading this, then you have stopped hearing from me and you are trying to find me. Don’t bother crying over me my child, I am happy safe and right where I needed to be. There is a lot that happens in communities when one person has what others wish they had, jealousy is the devil’s gift to those with a brittle heart. I love you so much, I adored the time you spent here and if you are to ever come, then don’t come to the village but instead go to the central, there is a house there waiting for you, the papers are with this letter, there is a farm in the north and a shop in the south; all of these in your name so don’t hate home. Remember I love you and I am watching you. Makasu Band sang Akuti Kaya and the song is a reminder of the realities old people face, but it is also a warning to those that sit and do nothing or follow the norm when it comes to old people. I will write the lyrics for you and hopefully one day you will understand.
Love,
gogo.
Chonde phunzilani chichewa my Lucy. Lilime silidachile chifukwa chokuyankhulani zakwanuko. _{(please learn chichewa, my tongue hasn’t healed because of talking to you in english})

kuli matenda kuno gogo wadwala
_{(there is a sickness, granny is sick)}
Pamudzipa palibe chisoni
_{(in this village there is no remorse)}
akuti ndiyo itha anthu pamudzi pano
_{(they say, it is her that is finishing people in this village)}
tsono palibe oti ayisamale
_{(and there is no one to take care of her)}

akuti kaya
_{(they say, “whatever”)}
idzionela yokha
_{(she will see what she can do)}
kuti idziwe
_{(for her to know)}
chinameta nkhanga mpala
_{(malawian proverb, loose translation: once beaten twice shy)}
pamudzipa pali nkhaza zedi
_{(this village has no love just abuse)}
zandithetsa khama
_{(at a loss for words)}

Ndamva chisoni kuona
_{(I felt pity seeing)}
gogo kudwala
_{(seeing the sick granny)}
ili yokha mnyumba, zachisoni
_{(she is alone in the house, very sad)}
ndimodzi yemwe palibe odzazonda
_{(not even one person to come and see her)}
anthu onse ali chisangalale
_{(all the people are still happily living normal)}

akuti kaya
_{(they say, “whatever”)}
idzionela yokha
_{(she will see what she can do)}
kuti idziwe
_{(for her to know)}
chinameta nkhanga mpala
_{(malawian proverb, loose translation: once beaten twice shy)}
pamudzipa pali nkhaza zedi
_{(this village has no love just abuse)}
zandithetsa khama
_{(at a loss for words)}

gogo kulira
_{(granny is crying)}
yo yo yo mama
musanditaye ndinu ananga
_{(don’t leave me, you are my kids)}
gwetsa msozi
_{(dropping tears)}
yo yo yo mama
inu ananga musanditaye ngati galu
_{(please my children, don’t treat me like a dog)}
yo yo yo mama
iyeye iyeye oo oo

Reading the letter and finishing it with the song, it really resonated in a not so nice way, knowing the evils my granny knew were around the corner and still preparing in advance brought heavy tears. But my granny told me toughen up and work hard, she left me an impressed little person, she left me knowing a little bit of the uncertainty that life brings, she left me with heavy lessons but most of all she left me her love and hardwork.