I am from a place where the sun still rises from the mountains
And curses the land filled with crops which relieve hunger pains
I am from a place where the Mozambican border is just around the corner
A place somewhere between Tsonga and Swati
A place of identity crises.
I am from a place where the neighbours seem to care
They greet you with a smile so large you wonder if it’s real
They wave from afar and shout out your name
They show their face when they need you
And then show their backs when you need them.
I am from a place where my heart lies
Where a mom grew me old from infancy
Where a dad lived too short a life
And left too soon for heaven
Where an older brother is an inspiration
Where a little sister is a nostalgic nuisance.