They WANT: Flag of ye Country, Fly High.


By  :Tah Laurette


They want to see the flag with foundation on to cover pimples and discolored skin. They want to see the flag with mascara to lengthen its eyelashes and eyeliner to bring out its eyes. They want colored lips, the reds and the pinks. They want manicured nails, and pedicured feet. They want to see the flag with a fancy weave. They want to see the flag in a dress that slightly hugs its curves to show it’s a woman, but still a child of God.

They want to hear its studying law or medicine. They want to hear it is top of its class. They want to hear it got a full scholarship and is on the dean’s list. They want to hear the flag is a steady member of the local church. They want to hear that its best friends with the pastors daughter. They want to hear it cooks with the pastors wife from time to time. They want to hear its got a good paying job at a reputable company. They want it to send them money from time to time.

They want to hear that the flag is saving it’s self for marriage. But one day they want it to bring home the perfect man, a Doctor or a Lawyer. They want him to pay a foot and an arm for lobola, then they want a white wedding. They want to invite everyone they know. They want it to be the most lavish wedding the country has seen. They want the flag to have the wedding of their dreams.

They want the flag to live in the suburbs with a Benz in the drive way. They want it to have beautiful kids that are in private schools They want it to build them homes, start up their businesses, buy them cars and send their children to school.

They never once mention that they want the flag to be happy . They once chose happiness but realized happiness comes with a curse. They chose their lovers over education and it lead them into abject poverty and desertion. They chose Individuality over esoteric beauty and they became out casts, rebels or mentally insane. They chose Tribalism and tradition over Christianity and it left them with nothing but tribal marks, scabbed knees, stones for feet and gods that don’t meet their needs. They chose to accept themselves for what they were and not improve themselves so their lives descended into anarchy with a curse bestowed on their once promising lands. Their children became drunks and criminals, their husbands became bigots and polygamists and their brothers killed one another over sand and grain. Death and illness in the Country is the order of the day.

So when one of their own breaks from the curse, they become a flag. A flag of hope and a banner for salvation, A flag to bridge the family from passed failures and bondage and to deliver them to the promised land. A flag to hold a positive image of a dead flame. A flag to mask shame.

Oh flag of ye Country, fly high lest be bonded and cursed like the rest of ye Country.