Poem of the Month: Welcome to My Country — Anonymous
“Welcome to My Country, Let Me Show You Around” is a poem by a friend, her first ever poem, so I thought I’d share it with you too.
Welcome to my country
Let me show you around
I wanna introduce you to the local bakeries
I wanna introduce you to the colonisers, racists and brexiteers
but these are all just the basics.
Welcome to my country
where the phrase
go back to your country
is used more than “c’mon pet, let’s retire to Benidorm.”
But I’m sure you’ll agree, this isn’t contradictory in any form.
Welcome to my country
Where the question why does your hair grow upwards?
is asked simultaneously as the self-invite to touch it
because it’s different, because its weird
and let’s just admit it, you’re just a misfit.
So don’t react — just giggle.
You wouldn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.
The colour of your skin does that already.
Welcome to my country
Where immigrants and refugees don’t belong
but the locals and the natives indulge
in the nearest Bella Italias and Nando’s
Welcome to my country
where everyone loves Will Smith and Beyoncé
but don’t be ridiculous, they’re not savages
they don’t count, they’re the exception
they receive a different reception
Beyoncé, we adore, but the thought of a Black Neighbour —
we might have to move cus that’s, like — a deal breaker
Welcome to my country
where the weekend activities include visiting museums
filled with filtered historic stories
and artefacts from other countries
A child asks:
“Mummy, where did this shiny rock come from?”
Mummy replies with a lie
“We found it in a different country.”
“Mummy try again, and be honest”
“We borrowed it from a different country.”
“Mummy try again and be honest”
“We stole it from a different country.”
“Mummy try again and this time be honest”
“Okay,” Mummy says:
We colonised several countries and took everything of value
because our economic stability
is more important than another country’s culture and tranquility
Welcome to my country
where if you cover your hair, arms and legs —
you’re a threat
where if you are too loud, too outspoken —
you’re a threat
where if you wear your most comfortable tracksuit —
you’re a threat
where if you stay in your lane and mind your business
but still continue to look and behave differently
You’re a threat
The child replies, “Mummy, I don’t understand.”
Mummy says, “It’s okay.”
“Just know — we found it in a different country.”
