The side of poetry and pain Samuel Bele (Bama) Kebedech Tekle | ሳሙኤል በለጠ(ባማ)
The side of poetry and pain
Samuel Bele (Bama)
Kebedech Tekleab (assistant professor) is a highly accomplished artist as a poetess, artist and teacher.
She has created a political movement by participating as a member of the youth movement in ኢህአፖ.
Fyodor Dostoevsky was sentenced to death for joining a fictitious socialist group. He was sent to Siberia and spent four years doing hard labor in prison. After his release, he published a book focusing on his life in prison called "The house of the dead" in the form of a novel. When Kebedech was a student in the art department of Addis Ababa University, they planned to leave the country with others and were captured and sent to their miserable homes.
It was a hard time of punishment. "Every moment was a long slowness of punishment, we were subjected to hard labor, we were tormented by thirst and hunger. The layout of the prison was fenced on one side and the other fence was the ocean of reality. What we eat for breakfast is known only because it is a word. But there is lunch that is not fenced." Maize Porridge. Rat There is Sorghum Porridge for Ten Years [Where is Page-8]
It was during this period that Kebedech started writing poetry. After her release, she continued at Howard University in America, where she left off three years later. She published an award-winning collection of poems entitled ''የት ነው ?' I heard that she is now an assistant professor.
ጣት ወዳጁን ሲያጣ?
እንዲህ እንዳሁኑ ጣት ወዳጅ ሲያጣ
ብዕር እንደ ዋዛ ተዘንግቶ ሳይቀር፤
ጣት ወዳጁን አጥቶ መሬት ሳይቆረቁር
የብሶት ተካፋይ ንጹሕ ብራና አጥቶ
ለምድር ሳይናገር
ተቀባይ ሳያጣ መልዕክት ሳያሰፍር
ሁሉም በየመልኩ ይሰፍር ነበረ
ለመጻፍ ተነስቶ ብዕር ካመረረ
ካንጀት ካመረረ ደም ይተፋል ብዕር
ቢያጥቡት የማይነጻ ቢቀቡት የማይሽር
እሳት ቢጨምሩት ነዲድ ሆኖ 'ሚገር
ደረቁ ብራና እንዲህ ሳይወራዛ
ተዘግቶ ሳይቀር ብዕር እንደ ዋዛ..."
[የት ነው ገጽ-13-14 1972 ሶማልያ(ዋህይ)]
The pain is deep, the pain of her soul has reached her body and her finger that has not touched the ground. It was written in prison. Dostoevsky described the same pain in "The House of the Dead" when he wrote, "The place where we were imprisoned was at the extreme beyond the wall. When we looked at the eaves between the palisades, hoping to see something, not a peep from the sky could be seen. Day and night, guards walked always here and there Time is a kind of messengers of sickness, just sickness." This reminds me of William J. Ray's poem about prison. The poem is called "The Window". even if we don't climb up, the sky won't be seen/ If I bend down, the slope won't hurt/ I can see 'nothing', I can see an 'empty' picture/ an exhausted soul on the other side of the window; American journalist and author Chuck Palahniuk says so in his memoir.
"It's so hard to forget pain, but it's even harder to remember sweetness. We have no scar to show for happiness. We learn so little from peace." The way the poet went to describe the distance of the horizon of loneliness and pain is surprising.
Deprivation of a person is a disease."ሰው እንጂ መዳኒ" As an example "...ግን ከንፍገት ሁሉ/
ሰው መንፈግ ይከፋል/ ለሰው ሕመም ደዌ/
ሰውን ምን ይተካል?/[የት ነው ገጽ-96]
Indian aerospace scientist and author Abdul Kalam, "Poetry creates poetry from happiness and from deep sadness." He says. The poetess is not silly, she equates "evening and old age". She is right, old age is the night of life. Just as the night is older than the day, so the night is more glorious than the day in the days of youth.
ምሽትና ዕርጅና
...ያይን ብሌን ዓቅሙ
ከተዳከመበት
አፍ ተሞልቶ ነገ ከማይጠራበት
እንደ ምሽት ብርሃን ተስፋ ካነሰበት
አካል አጎንብዞ አዕምሮ ተዳክሞ
ከነ ሕይወት ልምዱ
መሬትን ካዩበት
ከጨቅላው ዘመን ጋር
ሲገናኝ ሸምጦ
ዕለት ለካ አጭር ነው
ነጋሲ ጨለማ ብርሃን ተለውጦ
[የት ነው? ገጽ-98]
It's a corrective thought, "In the evening, I will go out to the plateau. As much as it is, it will make my age melt.... ሌት በጥምቀቷ የነጣው፤ ነጋ፤ ደፈረሰ ደሜ።/ ለሷ እንጂ ለኔ አልያዘልኝ፤ አዬ የስለት አታምጣ!/ በውጣ ውረድ በጠበል፤ ባሣር ወዜ ቢገረጣ/ ልክፍቷ እንደሁ አልለቀቀኝ፤ መሸ ደሞ አምባ ልውጣ! [ሎሬት ጸጋዬ ገ/መድሀን፣ እሳት ወይ አበባ]
Loret Tsagaye Gebre Medhin gave a background comment about her poems (blurb) and said, "Kebedech faced 11 years of persecution, exile and imprisonment as a child with her inner light of poetry. This is the secret of the pen of poetry.
