Kinaxixi by Augustinho Neto

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I was glad to sit down

on a bench in Kinaxixi

at six o’clock of a hot evening

and just sit there…

Someone would come

maybe

to sit beside me

And I would see the black faces

of the people going uptown

in no hurry

expressing absence in the

jumbled Kimbundu they conversed in.

I would see the tired footsteps

of the servants whose fathers also were servants

looking for love here, glory there, wanting

something more than drunkenness in every

alcohol.

Neither happiness nor hate.

After the sun had set

lights would be turned on and I

would wander off

thinking that our life after all is simple

too simple

for anyone who is tired and still has to walk.