This very powerful Agit Prop 101 poem was written by Janette Watt. You can find more writing from Janette on the website of Canadian Dimension Magazine (www.canadiandimension.com), a very progressive magazine. Janette and I both contribute to Canadian Dimension's new web blog. She posted this poem there, which is how I first became aware of it. As a follow-up to the poem, Janette writes :A most wonderful thing has happened! I received a message from Zakia's nephew in Kabul, Afghanistan (see the comment section of the BLOG). My heart is full knowing that my letter has brought some small comfort to the family of this brave woman. My heart has hope for this world knowing that we are all connected this way -- and fighting a common enemy! Here's the link to the blog on the Canadian Dimension site: http://www.canadiandimension.com/blog/2007/06/a-letter-to-zakia/#more-22
A Letter to Zakia
Dear Zakia, Sister I have thought a lot about you
over the past many days,
and each time I do
I think of Maya Angelou’s poem,
“I know why the caged bird sings”.
Two verses, especially… …a bird that stalks
down her narrow cage
can seldom see through
her bars of rage
her wings are clipped and
her feet are tied
so she opens her throat to sing. The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and her tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom Dear Zakia, Sister
I never knew you in life.
But my heart aches
knowing that you are gone. Zakia, dear Zakia
I had never heard your name
until you died.
I learned your name
at the same time
I learned of your death. “Zakia Zaki has been killed.”
Zakia murdered in her bed.
Zakia shot over and over
her baby lay next to her. Dear Zakia, Sister
I know you a little now
from the stories I read.
Zakia, journalist.
Zakia, political activist.
Zakia, freedom fighter.
Zakia, teacher.
Zakia, mother,
Zakia, lover,
Zakia, WOMAN – the reason you were killed by men. Oh dear Zakia,
I never knew you.
I know you only a little now.
But my heart aches
knowing that you are gone.
My heart aches
knowing that another of my sisters
has been murdered.
Murdered
because she bravely sang
from the cage
men placed her in.
Murdered for her bravery.
Murdered
because she was a woman. I search
and find a picture of you.
I look at the picture
and you look back.
You face the camera, chin up –
looking so serious, looking determined.
You are clutching a book to your chest,
your scarf loosely covers
your beautiful black brown hair.
I wonder where you were going that day.
I wonder what thoughts you had.
I imagine they were the thoughts
of so many brave women like you,
the thoughts of a caged bird
whose wings have been clipped
and feet tied
the thoughts of a crusader
who is determined to free herself
and her sisters. Dear Zakia, I ache for you.
I never knew you in life,
I know you only a little now
But, I ache for you.
I know you would understand.
It is that ache
that I believe you had,
that ache
that drove you
to do what you did
for your people, for your children.
An ache that is borne
out of a compassionate heart
that aches for freedom for your people,
for your children –
for yourself. I find another picture.
This one is of women
who knew you in life.
They have gathered round you,
reaching out to you in death.
Reaching out and touching you,
as I know you did to them in life.
Singing. Weeping.
Singing and Weeping.
I feel myself there with them,
with you.
I weep for your brave song
that is now silent.
I weep for you,
I sing for you. Zakia, my dear Sister
You were brown. I am white.
You lived in Afghanistan. I live in Canada.
You had six children. I have two.
You were a teacher. I have been one too.
You knew women
who were trapped
and killed by men.
I do too.
You gave your life for the freedom
of women and children,
and men too.
I hope that I can be
as brave as you. Zakia, Sister
I believe that you saw
through the bars
of your cage
to a better world,
a world where all people
are free.
And even though men
clipped your wings
and tied your feet,
you sang. Your song was loud
and strong,
and it was heard
on the distant hill.
We hear it still. Janette Watt is a proud-brazen-instigator, a value-driven political thinker, a social critic and an aspiring dissident writer. Her writing and her presentations are informed by her life experiences as an activist lawyer, an activist educator and active member of the human race. She is the owner/president of Watt Communications.
Last update : 02-07-2007 10:07
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By: Felix (Guest) on 02-07-2007 04:57