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Filtered Sunlight
Rosemary Temple
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Filtered Sunlight
First published in Great Britain in 2013 by TemplePress
Copyright RosemaryTemple 2013
The right of The Author to be identified as the author of this work has
been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Design andPatents Act of 1988All rights reserved
AcknowledgementsSpecial thanks to the creators of BBCs Africa who inspired the
content of this pamphlet, to StockFreeImages and to Jason Skarrattwho allowed me to use his image of the Twycross Chimp.
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I was born in a place where life is a goal, not a certainty. Where the
ground crawls and the air hums; where trees fight their corners with
barbs and poisonous saps; where beauty is used as a weapon.
I was born in the Kongo ya ntotila: the Kingdom of the Congo
forest.
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I remember everything my mama taught me. Her lessons resided in
me like organs; without them, I would die. Now they are whispered
memories, and I cling to them more for the reminder of her than the
knowledge they carry.
I spent the first six years of my life plastered to her side, moving
with her as she moved with our community. She was so calm among
them, so at ease that even orders from Ntuadisi didnt unsettle her.
She knew her function among our people, and as I watched her, she
taught me mine.
I was a playful child, oblivious to the danger of my
surroundings. I used to roll around with the other young ones, chasing
them into the undergrowth, throwing myself into a game of tumble
amongst the debris of the forest floor. Once, when two of us had
rolled a little too far from sight, we were seized by a pair of vice like
hands and slammed against the trunk of a tree. Winded and
breathless, we looked up into the fierce eyes of Ntuadisi.
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Fools! he spat at our fearful faces. Look there!
We turned our brown eyes to the spot in which we had been
playing only seconds before. There, coiled around the branch of a
tree that overhung like a great drooping arm, was a nioka, its scaled
body glistening where the filtered spots of sunlight touched it.
I remember thinking how languid it looked, certain it posed no
threat, when a brightly coloured bird, its wings fragile and light,
fluttered down to land inches from its head.
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Bright eyes keen in alanguorous body
muscles controlledpoised
patientimitation lures a flutter of
feathersgreen yellow and blue
a deadly snatch adds red
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We screeched. Ntuadisi howled and threw a rock at the nioka.
Indifferently, it slithered into the undergrowth and away from our
family.
I could hear the frantic pants of our mamas as they trampled
towards us through the tangled trees, their bodies materialising as
though conjured by the mist of the afternoon.
Ntuadisi slapped the branch where the nioka had been and
finished his teaching with a warning: lufua.
Death.
How quickly it could come to the naive in the forest.
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As a community, we travelled from place to place. Nomads of the
forest. Whenever food sources ran low, Ntuadisi would order us to
start walking, to follow the pathways cut by many before us, or to
form new ones under his watchful eye. If danger was spotted, he
would send out a call to the rest of us, and we would take to the trees,
scaling them quickly with our capable limbs and settling amongst the
protection of the leaves until the threat passed
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Mama pulls me closer against her body in the tree and strokes my
head to soothe me. My heart thrums in my chest and I know she can
smell the adrenalin on my skin. I hear a crunch of leaves as creatures
move beneath us; I have no idea what they are, only that the hush
they cause amongst my people is absolute. The canopy is thick and
lush; the perfect hiding place. Mama stops stroking my head abruptly
as a series of grunts sound directly below us. It is a new sound to my
ears from a creature I have yet to discover. I listen intently. The grunts
vary in pitches and length. They stop and start. They move back and
forth; an exchange; there is more than one creature.
I lean forward, trying to part the leaves around me to get a
better look, but mama pulls me back at once murmuring a warning. I
can smell fear emanating from her in waves. It is mixed with the
similar scent of others; my people who surround us, invisible forms in
the canopy.
We hold our breath.
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The grunts recede, die and the familiar sounds of the forest at
dusk filter back to our ears.
I feel mama move away and turn to watch her reach up into
the foliage above. When she looks down at me, dozens of tiny
winged creatures cover her face. I begin to pick them hurriedly from
around her eyes and mouth, but she pushes me away and gives me a
look that I read in an instant:watch.
I do as I am told as she searches the branches around her.
With one hand, she reaches out and rips a thick one from the tree,
sending a cascade of leaves down to the floor below. She presses
the palm of her other hand against the trunk of the tree and lets it rest
there for a while, then moves it up a little and lets it rest again, then
again and again until she hoists her branch and begins beating the
bark with all her strength. Like the shell of a nut, it splits and cracks
until a swarm of creatures identical to those covering her face spring
from beneath and surround us both. I swat the air with both hands,
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nearly losing my balance twice and causing mama to stop her
hammering to steady me with an irritated click of her tongue. I soon
learn to sit still and suffer the creatures as they buzz angrily around
my ears.
Something golden and thick begins to ooze from the cracks
and gashes she has made in the calloused bark, and instantly mama
sweeps it up with her finger and sticks it in her mouth. She swipes
another trickle, but this time offers her finger to me. I suck the end
tentatively, and what I taste causes my tongue to cry out for more. It is
sweet and sticky, and soothes my throat all the way down. We sit
and gorge until the call of safety is sounded by Ntuadisi and we have
to drag ourselves away from the treasures of the tree and its tiny
winged guards.
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Our forest had many faces. You could go to sleep and wake to find it
unrecognisable. Colours changed, new scents expanded in our
nostrils, sounds quivered, ceased and began again. We trusted
every member of our community, but we could not trust the forest
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Slices of sunlight begin to grow faint and the world around us fades
into dark unfamiliarity. The heaviness of the air changes and the heat
of the forest begins to rise.
Mama urges me to climb the nearest tree, but instead of settling
us half way up as she usually does, she pushes me on, up and up until
I can feel the receding light of the sun on my face.
We break through the canopy and I see the expanse of the
world around me like a dizzying void. A blanket of cloud gathers
across the sky, heavy and black and fearsome. As I watch, they roll
into each other, crashing and toppling just like I do with the other
young ones, and I feel myself relax as I watch their familiar game.
When the first crack sounds, I am not prepared.
I leap backwards, but mama is there to catch me. She holds
me close and strokes my hair as the sky explodes around us and the
foundations of our home shake. Flashes of blinding light illuminate the
forest and I feel troubled for its safety. A bright jagged shard tears
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through the sky and strikes a protruding tree not too far in the
distance. I watch the leaves glow for a second and then fall back into
charred darkness.
When the first rain drops fall, mama pulls me back into the
shelter of the leaves and we sleep to the sound of drumming.
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The rain brought with it a new world to discover. Streams like blood
vessels ran through the forest depositing new life. We drank from them
deeply and played in the spray of temporary waterfalls
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From the protectionof a watery home
Mbizi hurls itself withfanned fins
wings of a birdit twists and falls
Splash!
Gleaming droplets landone by one
stretching ripples farto melt back into calm
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The colours of the plants and leaves seemed to grow in intensity after
a storm and everything I touched left moist dew on my fingertips. I
saw my reflections in droplets of water that clung to leaf blades; I
watched the steam rise into the canopy as the heat turned them to
vapour. In those days, the forest rippled and shone
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Mama tells me to leave them alone when I try to catch one. She
teaches me to watch from a distance but never to interfere.
I call them rain dancers and bring my friends to see their
display.
Chirrups and clicksthe melody to limbs that leap
from leaf to leafand rest beside another
throats expandlike yellow bubbles
click click click
I want to pop
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We shared our forest with giants
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We stumble across a pathway that is not made for our feet. Branches
are snapped and lying limp on the ground. Purple and blue flowers
lay scattered on the floor like bruises. Ntuadisi calls us to halt and
inspects the damage. I hear many others scouring the undergrowth
for food; mama hands me an orange fruit that I suck on gladly. We
walk on Ntuadisis signal.
I become weary and clamber onto mamas back. I see my
friend do the same; we pull faces at each other.
Dusk falls and we take to the trees. I settle my head on mamas
belly, and thats when I hear them.
At first I think its the clouds playing those crashing games
again and wait to see the flashes of light illuminate the leaves above.
But the sounds come from below.
I sit up and mama tells me what they are as they start to chuff
and blow.
Nzawu.
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Joined together as one, we swing through the trees, branch to
branch, following the sound of their heavy footfalls. And then the
trees end and we can swing no more. I scramble up to peer over
mamas shoulder, and I see them forthe first time. Huge and shadowy
in the clearing, like wrinkled boulders with flapping ears and nioka
noses. We watch them greet each other in an unfamiliar language,
and then they begin their games in the mud.
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That was the first and last time I saw Dzanga bai, the village of the
nzawu.
Blind noses searchfor powdered treasure
stifleda blow of bubbles
the salt of the earth is releasedand fed to open mouths
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Although our forest was dense and consuming, it had an end like
every other living creature. The first time I found myself expelled from
the lungs of Africa and into a dizzying world of space and sky, I
thought my life was over. There was a river unlike any I had ever
seen before, stretching out into unfamiliar territory. Under the blanket
of cloud, it looked manic. Foam frothed at the edges.
Then the cloud cleared, and the beauty of this new world was
suddenly magnified by the rays of sunlight that bathed it in gold.
Mama collapsed onto the soft sand as life continued to spring
forth from the forest to witness the spectacle of space and sea. I fell
onto her rising belly, and wrapped my arms around her tightly. We
were shrouded in warmth from all sides.
I gazed about me, watching the rest of my community fall into
relaxed peace. Nothing could hide out there in the open, but it was
not a place for lufua. Creatures went there to bask in the power of the
unfiltered sun and to bathe, like the kiboko who thrashed and
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crashed in the surf, his great mouth opening to taste the salt and
swallow the experience.
But the forest was our true home, and offered us the shelter we
needed. It was part of us as much as we were part of it.
Later, as the sun slipped in the sky and we walked back into
the shadows of the sheltering, leafy towers, I realised that I lived in a
world of miracles.
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I live in a place where life is a routine, not a challenge. Where the
ground lies still and the air hums a different tune; where trees are
planted and restrained; where beauty is imitative.
Where my mama is a memory.
I have a new community now, but our instincts are quashed.
We do what we do out of habit, not to survive. We have nowhere to
go. We have nothing left to discover. We are fed, we are cared for,
but our journey is at an end.
We have nowhere to go.
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I leave and forget.
Through glass fingers press against fingersa mutated reflection
eyes that knowthat have seen
that misslock blankly with mine
now look awayhands drop
Protruding lips form the circle of a callthat could travel for miles
but here held captive
I read the signhis forest was felledwhile mine was builta home for a home
comfort for constraint