February 25, 2026

by NATASHA NSEMIWE

The Torn Veil

For Chela

Akacila kambushi kasengula epo kekele.

The tail of a goat cleans where it is seated.

—Bemba Proverb.

I

—Only fatal haemorrhaging shortens the lifespan of lies in this house. Time gathers, then it brings the ignorant to the surface of awareness.

II

It’s either that, or:

From the beginning of beginnings, our earth has been a thin quilt. I know this because I was only a twenty-something year old when your truth peeked, sliced open a veil, forced through, held the hem of time’s garment, and power left.

III

Midway through the familial introductions, an aunt showed her molar teeth. As if you were worthy of being swallowed, your name was spat by no one else. Their reason? Although it was worth asking, my cultured side couldn’t cut the air.

IV

Too young to have an isambo lyamfwa, you were sedated. Much later, our parents offered me your name: your rest and the lack thereof. Relatives hammered the idea till it was malleable enough for a name of gratitude. Like a grudge, tenacity tongue-tied to your name tethered into my innermost self.