By Peris Mwangi

Smith College

I am from the brick and tin-roofed house

From the thickly carpeted living room floor

I am from the cold, red concrete floor of my bedroom

From the soapy water and scented cleaning detergent

I am from the ancient creaky oakwood bed

From the possession of a duvet I’ve adored for years

I am from the tiny framed portraits hanging from my wall

From the 14-year-old picture album of my family on my dresser

I am from the pictures of daddy’s well-combed afro

From mummy’s loosely fitting bell-bottoms

I am from the childhood memories of weekends spent at public parks

From the lakeside camps and bonfires and road trips

I am from the evening painting lessons with mama

From the sum solving sessions with daddy

I am from the pillow fights and real fights with my sisters

From the nights we fell asleep in each other’s arms

I am from the dim lights at the fireplace

From the bright light at my study table

I am from the big bowls of soup and potatoes at dinner

From the house where candy and cookies are forbidden

 

But now I’m here.