BEE VEE DAKAMELA | Four Poems

Star-crossed Lover

He loved me when no one would

He brought me wild fruit in a wooden plate

He squeezed the teats of the mother cow

whilst I opened my mouth under its bulging udder

Feeling the warm milk fill my mouth 

He aimed at a lone bird with his sling shot

and offered me its fire roasted meat on our date.

He glided with me on the slippery rocks of Tshangane River 

After an adventurous swim with the crocodiles 

He kept his eyes on the herd of cattle grazing on the plain

While his hand caressed my cheek 

We rolled in the dewy grass 

He smelt of cow dung and unprocessed milk

Of the wild umkhemeswane fruit 

And the bold sweat of toil in the green fields 

He respected my innocence 

Spoke of sending a delegation to my family

Of giving my father a herd of cattle 

Of siring strong little boys and girls 

Of a thousand moons passed in the most elegant pose

Of counting stars and singing along with the rain bird 

Of changing seasons, flowing rivers and crackling fire in winter



‘What Have You Brought Us’


She chants from the pavements

She is not a beggar 

She is the queen of the black market 

Her head is adorned with a white doek

She has more currency than the World Bank

She is more powerful than a graduate

The rate is dictated by her mood

They envy her trade 

They envy her dominion 

She has no office

The pavements are her office 

She is her own pay master

Her pay slip is engraved in her heart 

Her skin glows in the city sun 

Her bosom is round and warm

where powerful currencies are shoved 

In her business there is no room for negotiations 

It's a take or leave it.





Ebony Black 


I’m ebony black

Never been bleached.

Beautiful like a black petunia

I walk to the interview room leaving other hopefuls behind.

He barks ‘enter' 

I slide into his office, my resume in my sweaty palms

He frowns, I smile.

My African teeth crooked and pointed 

Escape from my lips

The holes in my nose big and gaping 

Suck the air in his office 

My hair kinky and neatly combed

Stands at attention.


He weighs me and guffaws ‘ No job’

I mumble a weak ‘Thank you’


Unspoken thoughts fight for freedom to be heard

My brother, you didn’t check my resume 

I have a masters, a bachelor's, wait, a diploma underneath all that

I have ten years’ experience 

I have an award and a certificate of excellence

I did voluntary work 

I helped an old lady cross a busy street

I rescued a snared puppy

I decrypted an intriguing password 

I worked twenty five hours a day

My black skin did not interfere 

My crooked teeth stayed well inside my lips

I have never bleached brother, but I can work forty eight hours a day if you want.



For better, for worse 


Sanitize, Maintain a social distance, Sneeze into your elbow

Did anyone stop to think 

Of that man working in the far off lands?

Lockdown!

He is holding a hammer 

The last nail needs to be hit

He is holding a syringe 

He can’t put it down

Lockdown! Final warning 

Mummy where is daddy?

 Quiet Princess, he will be here soon!

Inwardly she is conflicted 

What if he has the virus?

Am I prepared to die with him?

Somebody is there a law for spouses?

He is knocking on the door

Stand back! She says 

Open up darling, I missed you 

I have to sanitize you

Did you really miss me?

I missed you but please I need to call help line 

I need a home test kit

My husband might have Covid-19

Darling, can I get in

Daddy is home, mummy

Stay back

Honey you said for better, for worse

Let me in

Put on the mask, Wash your hands, Remove your clothes

Wait, you coughed

Are you scared  I will infect you?

But you said for better, for worse


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Banqobile Virginia Dakamela is a writer who hails from Bulawayo, Zimbabwe. Her previously published short story has appeared in an anthology that was once studied in the country's high schools and is being studied at a local university. She is in the process of publishing her novels.