I know a place where I can spread myself out and be enough to fill a room
It goes without saying
My British English troubles my American English
I pause before I say words like be-u- tea-ful
Confused by how I learned to say it in Botswana,
In British English, and how I hear it here,
In America, there is less consideration for u in a sentence
How c o l o u r becomes c o l o r
Word flattened like somebody’s version of this poor earth
And We the people
Is often them not u, the people
When I don’t think in American English,
I think about u in almost every word, and it pains me
To know that u can’t be in some places
That u should be with me
Here in America, depending on who u are
Or who u aren’t, the system is built to leave u out
If u go missing, the system isn’t designed to miss u
I am always reminded that this is not my language
u can’t be saved by any English
English was never meant to save u
Look at history, what English brought,
u didn’t survive, so many of u didn’t survive.
______________
Akosua Zimba Afiriyie-Hwedie is a Zambian-Ghanaian poet who grew up in Botswana. She holds an MFA in poetry from the University of Michigan. She is the author of Born in a Second Language (forthcoming 2021), winner of Button Poetry’s 2019 Chapbook Contest. She placed 3rd in Palette Poetry’s Emerging Poet Prize & is a finalist of The Brunel African Poetry Prize & Furious Flower’s Poetry Prize, among others. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Kweli, Obsidian, Wildness & elsewhere. Visit her at AkosuaZah.com.