1994: A love poem

I want someone who is going to look at me

and love me

the way that white people look at

and love

Mandela.

Someone who is going to hold onto my memory

the way white people hold onto Mandela's legacy.

A lover who will build Robben Island in my backyard

and convince me that I have a garden

and fresh air, a rainbow and freedom.

A TRC kind of lover.

You don't know love

until you have been loved like Mandela.

You don't know betrayal

until you have been loved like Mandela

You don't know fuckery

until you have been loved like Mandela.

You don't know msunery

until you have been loved like Mandela.

And this is one of the many residues of slavery:

being loved like Mandela.

Koleka Putuma

From Collective Amnesia (2017)