My name was my name before

I walked among the living

before I could breathe

before I had lungs to fill

before my great grandmother passed

and everyone was left to grieve

My name was birthed from a dream

A whisper from gods to a king

A shout into the stars that produced

another that shone as bright

They held me without being burnt, humming lullabies in pidgin

My name was passed down from my

ancestors

They acknowledged my roots grew in two

places

So, they ripped my name from the ocean

and mixed it into the bloodlines of my totems

My name has survived the destruction of worlds

and the genocidal rebirthing of so-called ones

It’s escaped the overwhelmed jaw of the death bringer

Many a time

It has survived the conflicts that resulted in my gods,

from both lands, knowing me as kin,

but noticing that I am painfully unrecognisable and lost

They are incapable of understanding

the foreign tongue that was forced on me

My name has escaped cyclones and their daughters

It has been blessed by the dead

As they mixed dirt, salt and liquid red,

into my flesh

My name is the definition of resilience

It is a warrior that manifested because of warriors

So, excuse me as I roll my eyes or sigh as you

mispronounce my name

over and over again

Or when you give me another

that dishonours my mother and father

That doesn’t acknowledge my lineage to my island home

or the scents of rainforest and ocean foam

You will not stand here on stolen land

and whitewash my name

For it is two words intertwined

holding as much power as a hurricane

Say it right or don’t say it at all

For I am Meleika

I will answer when you call

Cover image by Paul Gauguin [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons