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Inzwai.
It is.. .in the way my vowels dance to my command.
Inzwai. ..the way, I mumble in fear...
Inzwai the way I whisper when in doubt or the way I stutter in uncertainty.
Luister...
Its in the way I raise my voice when in anger, or the way I cross my fingers when telling a lie...
The way my eyes twinkle when in love...
Luister na... that silly giggle during late night calls...
Prakena...
It is in the silent echo's. ..or the teary comfort words.. .it is in the explicit voice of my puffy eyelids or the fake "I am okay's". ..when I'm absolutely fed up.
Ikhare...
It is within firm handshakes, and stern greetings... let's face it is in uniform. ..and piled within authority.
Ikhare tita ge ra mi
It is within vernacular gestures, within similar Bantu words, it is within common courtesy.. .it is even within our song and dance...
It is clear within under the counter dealing or within the promises we fail to keep...
It is within that framed degree and rooted within our supposed cultural norms
It is within a simple hello or even a teary goodbye.. .that flirtatious blouse or even within batting eye lashes
We speak... BUT
Sometimes all WE need to do is.. .just LISTEN.
By Tanyaradzwa Daringo