Creative Projects by the University of Montpellier's Master Students in English Studies
“My name’s Killa, and I’m ten. I live in a village named Quentena, on the Altiplano in Bolivia. My parents and my older brother grow potatoes. I help them on weekends, but I spend the rest of my time in the nearest boarding school. I leave the village every Monday morning before the sun rises. I walk with two other children to the big road where we wait for the bus. We walk one hour, and we ride one hour.
Ghanima is as clear and calm as the morning sun
In the noise and the darkness of her world,
In her gloomy days and nights, she is a warrior
Ghanima sinks, and her children float.
Hello there, my dear me, my old friend.
Life hasn’t done me any favours
Until now, for countless hours
And this is what I wanted to end.
A ray of sunshine streams through my window, lighting up the white orchid sitting on the dining room table. I can hear the whistle of the song thrush, and the waves crashing on the sand. My hair is gradually changing colour, from grey to blonde, and my skin is taking on a rich golden tan. I put down my cup of herbal tea and look in the distance. I think about life, about who I am, everything I could have been, and what I have become.
My mother named me after a spring flower, Violet. My body expresses the colour of my emotions, like a chameleon blending into its surroundings.
Today I want to tell you something very personal
For it is what slam is all about.
I tried it only once before
In a safe environment.
But this time I don’t know you at all.
Let me introduce you to my not-so-old past.
I am the hero of my tale.
Paralysis, why did you come without warning?
As a teenager, I was full of dreams.
Oh, doctor, you fulfilled your dream of becoming a doctor.
But, alas, mine drowned in the stream.
Oh, doctor, was your intent as pure as it seemed?
You stole my dreams, a thief in broad daylight.
Lost and weak, I prayed for a joke.
But reality slaps me in the face and puts me to the test.
Maloya, Maloya, I know who you are.
Maloya, Maloya, I know where you are.
Your waves crash in the palm of my hands.
Your drums echo in my head.
Your spell exalts my mind and body.
Maloya, Maloya, you are my remedy.
