Sam mwanangu,
I hear your voice again and again as you walk up to me. A shadow? No, this is my son.
I want to call out your name, embrace you never to let go again. But my ears my eyes deceive me. Dreams too powerful they sweep me away.

I pace about the corridors of life. I feel you mwanangu. I prepare your favourite dish. We dine together. A broken mother’s tale. Wishful thinking where God has adjudicated. But must I not dream?
How does a mother survive this? Prayer perhaps?

The greatest gift of music you left us keeps me strong…its reassuring, soothing the shredded heart of a mother.

As I talk to you today sing for me once more: “Amai varamba rombe pamusha pavo, hupenyu huno kuti zvifambe unotodya Cheziya.”
Sing for me again: “Ndinotenda nerudo rwawakandipa, rwaunondipa rwauchandipa mangwana nekusingaperi mwanangu.”
I want to hear you play: “Uyu mwana chiyedza murima.”
Sing aloud mwanangu: “Mweya famba zvakanaka. Ini chishuwo changu pamwana uyo rwendo rwake rwekudenga afambe zvakanaka.”
Sing too my son: “Musakabire mashoko musati mazvionera mega, muchimureva wangu (mwana). Guhwa rinopfumbira pane chakanaka, muromo unoparadza panechakanaka, muri ngwarire(guhwa).”
Your great words, profound, prophetic. Forever etched in my memory.

The words ring in my mind more meaningfully now than before. You’ll touch my heart always. Touch the souls of angels amongst you today.

I miss you. I am working to fulfill your aspirations. But the pain is unbearable mwanangu. Help me.
Maybe the mother’s resilience will see me through.

I must rest now.

Ndini amai vako,
Daisy.
- tukumusik.com