Published in Overland Issue The 2018 Oodgeroo Noonuccal Poetry Prize · Uncategorized Highly Commended: Descendant, MABO and Woman Jilian Boyd Bowie A suite of three poems Descendant My voice echoes the cries of my forefathers My feet trek truths of my ancestors I rise in the essence of my predecessors In pursuit of visions once dreamt MABO 1936-1992 The land, the skies, the seas In all their intricacies We belong There is no ownership; nor commercialism But a spiritual knowing and connectedness That they care for us and us for them How can we own what existed long before we ever did? We merely entered into a belonging to boundaries of space For which we caretake Our landmarks define our lore ‘Tag mauki mauki; teter mauki mauki’ Long before terra nullius, not my tongue, but a legal fiction I fought against ink, paper and exploitation A battle unto death … my death Yet a rebirth of rights regained for a people You cannot give me what was never yours I attested our lore I have fulfilled my call, my cause I am Mabo Woman Aka (Grandmother), undisputed Matriarch Your soul haunts my desires to wear your crown standing tall, Before all. Scattered seeds from your womb wander country, sprouting hope. Rest those weathered hands, rest now and see Kinship connections swell as the sea, satisfied with descendants Because of you, we can. Ama (Mother), never question your ability in the receding tide Your giving heart overflows into thirsty souls not yet knowing when to drink Pillar of strength, fortress to all Selfless resilience saturated in love Your attentiveness acknowledged by unseen guests Rewards returning in welcomed waves, cry no more. Because of you, we can. Yapa (Sister), strive with me In the essence of our mothers, thrive with me Let us breathe the breath of our ancestors and drink from their spring, cascading into our mouths As we journey on Hand in hand, soul to soul Furnishing our purpose with pride Because of us, we can. Waku (Daughter), embrace instruction They are a blessing to your paths, a blanket in the cold. Capture the spirit of your mothers, endow it in sundrenched flair Grasp the baton of fire that came from old frail hands And run. Run like the wind gusting through the seasons of change. Because of you, we will. Footnote: Traditional words taken from both Aboriginal & Torres Strait languages, Kala Lagaw Ya, Meriam Mir and Yolgnu Matha. Image: James St John / flickr Jilian Boyd Bowie Jillian Boyd Bowie is a Torres Strait Islander woman from the Samsep and Zagareb tribes of Erub and Mer. She was born and raised on Thursday Island and now lives in Darwin, Northern Territory where she works as a mentor for an Indigenous employment program. Mother of six, budding author, poet and songwriter, Jillian is passionate about her people, culture and investing into our future leaders, our children and youth. She is committed to inspiring and empowering Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people to find their voice and build up their people. More by Jilian Boyd Bowie › Overland is a not-for-profit magazine with a proud history of supporting writers, and publishing ideas and voices often excluded from other places. If you like this piece, or support Overland’s work in general, please subscribe or donate. Related articles & Essays 19 April 2024 · Friday Fiction Stilted J.E “Mahal” Cuya One hour after midnight. Everyone in rooms. Living room – dark. Table look like monsters. Like death. TV on stand. Netflix Logo. No one watching. Residents asleep. They have dementia. 18 April 202418 April 2024 · Education A Jellyfish government in NSW: public education’s privatisation-by-neglect Dan Hogan A private school that receives public money is not a private school: it is a fee-paying public school. The overfunding of private schools using public money is a symptom of a public service that has been rotted for a quarter of century by a political class with no vision beyond producing dubious, misleading statistics to deploy at the next election.
