Date: Sat, 29 Sep 2001

Date: Sat, 29 Sep 2001
From: Abigail Stamm

Subject: random poems (malawi)

Below are a few poems that I have written so far about life and issues in Malawi.

Timafa yaEdzi (We are dying of AIDS) -- 4 September 2001

Try teaching a class that's dying
Imagine never knowing who will come today
Making attendance lists that tomorrow
Are already obsolete
Frustrated that no one can tell you why
Annipher and Chimwemwe no longer come to class
You can not know the lies I tell myself
And must believe to give myself hope
Expecting high scores and few absentees
Dreaming that most of my students will pass
Zooming in on a future that can never be
Instead of watching most of them slowly die of AIDS

AIDS in Africa -- 4 September 2001

World news reports, "AIDS Still Rampant in Africa."
(Except in Uganda, where education did some good.)
Already population growth rates have dropped,
Reaching 0% in some countries, like Zimbabwe.
Even Malawi expects a population decrease soon.
Desensitized by constant Aids statistics,
Youngsters believe they can live forever,
Impetuous, impatient, wanting pleasure now,
Never thinking about behaviour or health,
Gambling with death each time they have sex.
Once they reach Form 1, students should know
Follies and foibles that lead to HIV.
And yet they continue to have unprotected sex,
Infecting others before the symptoms show,
Denying they might have contracted AIDS already,
Slowly killing their country with their own deaths.

Ulongwe CDSS, Year 1, Term 2 -- 20 May 2001

Here only six months when the changes set in.
I watch quietly as they slowly begin
To affect my life in little ways
Over the course of many days.
Our head is leaving now for Domasi.
A new head has not yet been chosen to be
His replacement at our stranded school.
Perhaps Mr Mopiha would be cool,
But he's still taking classes himself
And cannot do it all -- who else?
Probably someone from nowhere nearby
Will answer the MOE's desperate cry
For a new head in a poor little village
Just past the mission and over the bridge,
But just for now, just for Term 2,
We'll be resourceful, see what we can do
To make a new start on our own
In this small town that is now our home.
Maybe Term 3, we'll have a new head
Or maybe we'll be alone instead,
Just till next year -- or a bit longer.
How else to make a school stronger
Than by leaving it to struggle leaderless,
Forced to bring out in all the best
That each teacher alone can give
To make all our lives easier to live
Or it will bring out the worst instead
To leave a school without a head.
(Typed 22 September: we got our new head yesterday.
MOE = Ministry of Education.)

Plea from Form 1 (or Ulongwe CDSS, Year 1, Term 3) -- 4 September 2001

Madam, please help us. We have nothing to do!
Allow us to hang out here in the lab with you.
Last few lessons, no teachers came to class.
All listening on the radio for the wage increase to pass.
We are children; their behaviour we cannot contradict.
If they choose not to teach, then we just sit.
It's not fair to us now that school's almost done,
Skipping classes themselves, but telling us to come
Or punishing us when they see us playing ball.
Now you and Sister only come to teach at all.
So Madam, what can you do?
Try to make them start teaching us too,
Readying us for our terminal exam
Instead of waiting for money that won't come.
Knowing is better than not knowing.
Education is our future. Please help us, Madam.
(This poem was inspired by a conversation with Francis Chalera and Samuel Yassin in 1A yesterday and with some mixed Form 1 students today)

Kasekaminga CDSS -- 10 November 2000

It's too loud here to get much work done
A chess game was played, but who cares who won?
The room echoes loudly with gossipy voices
Leaving me with few undesirable choices
No hand-cranked radio today to add
To the noise. The rain is not so bad
When compared to the gossip inside each class
As the wind whips through windows that have no glass
The teachers might be here or maybe not
Perhaps all day Form 1 won't be taught
Or Form 3 students may have just forgot
To walk to class in the rain today
While girls do chores and boys mostly play
Students in class need pens, pencils, and books
They wear uniforms most days so their looks
Are indistinguishable, all 50 and then some
If in today's weather to class they all come
If their families can afford the rising cost
Of education, uniforms, and supplies that have been lost
(This poem was written during Peace Corps training when I was still living in Dedza.)

Contradictions -- 19 September 2001

I wish they would make up their minds some day.
Say this, do that, you know what Peace Corps wants.
Do I? Not at all. Not with so many
contradictions. Speak more clearly next time!
"Permaculture's the way of the future.
Malawi's parks, forests, and fields all need
your help to save them and turn them around
before the soil, with nutrients gone,
can no longer support the needed maize
to make nsima to feed this country.
But remember to always sweep your yard.
Let nothing green grow lest scorpions come.
Uproot it, burn it, to get rid of waste."
Teach by example, but do what they say.
The Peace Corps, the people, just who are "they"?
"Go to church weekly. Don't worship alone.
Make yourself seen in your community.
Go to town meetings. Help make policy.
You have so many of the skills they need.
Stay out of religion and politics.
Don't give the impression that you're a spy,
encourage dissent, or proselytize."
They ask us to draw a fine line each day.
The Peace Corps, the people, just who are "they"?
"Development work is the way to go.
Using all of the skills you know, help your
village move into the new century.
Start women's co-ops so they can survive
when of cheating and AIDS their husbands die.
Encourage the females to go to school
to learn how to live in a changing land,
to learn to defend themselves and their lives
before any more of their country dies.
And respect the cultures of your village.
Adopt their values for the next two years."
Men lead here; women follow them blindly.
I'm just expected to do what they say.
The Peace Corps, the people, just who are "they"?
"Preach condoms, fight AIDS! Our rallying cry!
Malawi is poor and lacks the knowledge
to fight this awful disease on its own.
Teach in your classes sex education,
practice cross-gender communication,
maybe try a condom demonstration.
Always, always be careful what you do.
Don't break the local cultural taboos."
I break some taboos just by living here.
Discussing sex is another, they say.
The Peace Corps, the people, just who are "they"?
"Remember the three goals to which you swore:
to aid Malawi and teach Malawi
about America. When you return,
teach your hometown about life at your site.
Every essay you write, every letter
must show your host country as you knew it,
truly portrayed to teach family and friends.
Say nothing negative lest you offend
or are misread by your host government."
Don't lie. Just don't tell the whole truth, they say.
The Peace Corps, the people, just who are "they"?

For these last few, I was lazy. I just changed a few words of someone else's songs.

Pre-Service Training (to the tune of "Morning has Broken") -- 25

November 2000
Training is boring ... out here in Dedza.
The rains are pouring ... intermittently.
We're given free space ... for our own pleasure.
We're sick of this place ... and long to be free.
I've learned nearly nothing ... in our dull sessions.
The homestay I'm loving ... learning how to live.
I've learned how to cope in ... Chichewa sessions.
I'm learning the ropes in ... the classes I give.

AIDS in Malawi (to the tune of "El Salvador") -- 20 September 2001

There's a sunny little country at the Great Rift's end
Where the mountains roll and the rivers wend,
But it faces a crisis that it cannot mend:
AIDS in Malawi.
If you take a safari to the forest reserve,
Odds are still good you'll see a few birds,
then enter a village if you have the nerve,
Here in Malawi.
If a government official dies in Lilongwe,
They fervently deny that it was AIDS.
They point to the villages. "Look there," they say,
"AIDS in Malawi."
And in the morning the headmen say,
"We're happy you have lived another day.
Last night a hundred poor passed away
>From AIDS in Malawi."
There's a television crew here from BBC
Filming the deaths due to HIV,
Calling orphaned children the tragedy
of AIDS in Malawi.
Before the government camera twenty feet away,
Another man is asking for continued aid,
Money and medicine to fight this plague,
AIDS in Malawi.
There's a kiss, a promise, 'fore the man walks away,
All lies to convince the girl to stay.
Chishango and Radio 2 start to play,
"Protect your future."
You close your ears and hide your eyes
>From victims' lust in paradise.
They've fallen farther than you realized
Spreading HIV.
Just like the other donors on which it depends,
Malawi is assisted by Americans
And if several million dollars seems too much to spend
fighting HIV,
They say for half a billion they could do it right,
Preaching condoms day and night,
Until they've begun to reverse their plight
Here in Malawi.
They'll continue begging aid from the USA
And watch their children pass away
And encourage Radio 2 to play,
"Protect your future."
AIDS kills the people who are living free.
Who put this price on their liberty?
Maybe it's all just a hopeless dream,
Beating HIV.
(Notes: Chishango is the primary condom company in Malawi and "Protect your future" is their slogan. Radio 2 is the largest and most popular radio station, government-run.)