Garden Boy

I came to MUBAS with dreams, Books in my hands, A future in my eyes, And hope inside my heart. Then love crossed my pathway, Through a Zimbabwean girl, So loving, so caring, She made distance feel small. She told her parents about me, And they welcomed our story, Their happiness encouraged us, So I trusted their hearts. When our studies were finished, They invited us to visit, I dressed with confidence, Thinking I was finally accepted. But somewhere along that journey, Their feelings suddenly changed, They looked beyond my character, And judged what I possessed. “He is not our type.” Those words became my sentence, Not because I lacked a heart, But because I lacked their standard. I came expecting a family, But found myself carrying tools, I became their Garden Boy, Planting flowers instead of dreams. What a painful contradiction— Yesterday I was welcomed, Today I was beneath their expectations, Tomorrow I must prove myself. But parents, hear this complaint: A person's worth isn't wealth, Love should not be measured Only by family status. And boys, hear my lesson: Before giving someone your heart, Understand the world around them— Their family, culture, values, expectations. Date where you are respected, Date where you are understood, Date where differences can breathe, Not where love needs permission. Compatibility matters, brothers, Not because one culture is better, But because understanding two worlds Can protect two young hearts. Don't chase love blindly, Don't ignore important differences, Know the person and their family, And ask where the road leads. As for me, I remain growing, Like seeds beneath the soil, They may have called me Garden Boy, But gardens produce harvests. One day they may discover That the boy they underestimated Was never lacking a future He was simply still growing. Garden Boy, they named me, But I accepted the soil. They expected weeds, I am growing into a forest.