I am the daughter of freedom fighters and farmers

Dark skin warmer than deep-down waters

But cooler than Congolese summers


Kinshasa-borne father and French mother

Raised in the suburbs of Paris

So excuse my French:

my vernacular bloomed in the streets


I am sure my ancestors moved carefully,

Pack of wolves, they prayed for me eventually

Before I could even think of them


I am sure I am the product of brujas, ndoki

The witches they failed to kill

From Senegal and Angola,

I exist somewhere between the Nile and Lingala


Willing to be a revolutionary since my ancestor queens, I

Am the rebellion in the memory

of the memories I was drinking

I am the product of the universe flair

Arranging destinies,

Assembling fate


I am the result of stand-by turned into heartbreaks,

Devotion of a woman that a man can never take

That makes me the woman that I am

and still serves Mother Nature’s program, yes ma’am

I am the memory of the broken pieces of my aunties,

I am the cracks their heart felt, repeatedly

I can still feel the sobbing despair in my body

I am their unshed tears when I have no face to carry


I possess spirit controversy

I am easily provoked

Baby if you’re looking for me, you will find me

My ancestors carried holy water

and shared secrets with oak trees,

They talked to God

while observing the wisdom of seasons within

My ancestors are related to the moon

And if you don’t believe me, look at her when

She is full

If you’re blessed, while you sing respectful tunes,

She might wink at you