Written piece
Threads That Remember comes from a place I did not choose, but one that has shaped who I am.
Peter Junior Egbe Abunaw
Cameroon
About this piece
From Cameroon’s Southwest, conflict forced me into exile within the Commonwealth. In refuge, dignity often felt distant. Yet God carried me. I returned in June 2024 to rebuild, to serve, to heal. This poem is my prayer—that our shared threads grow stronger, guided by truth.
We were brought together by history—
not always gently, not always fairly,
but carried across oceans and time
into something called the Commonwealth.
It was meant to be a promise—
shared strength, equal voice,
a meeting place where no nation stands small.
But the threads remember.
In India, they remember the weight of salt
and the long walk toward dignity.
In Kenya, the forests still echo
with names that refused to disappear.
In Jamaica, songs rose from suffering
and became strength.
In South Africa, the land learned
how painful it is to divide a people
and how costly it is to heal.
And in Cameroon—
the story is still unfolding.
Two histories, two voices,
trying to breathe within one nation.
A people caught between identity and belonging,
where language is more than words—
it is memory, it is recognition, it is home.
There are wounds not yet spoken aloud,
families divided, futures uncertain,
and a quiet cry for justice
that still searches for an answer.
These are not just histories.
They are threads.
Threads that ache,
threads that question,
threads that refuse to be forgotten.
So when we speak of unity,
let it be honest.
Not unity that ignores pain,
but unity that listens.
Not silence in place of peace,
but truth that makes peace possible.
And still—there is hope.
Because across all these lands,
people continue to rise,
to create, to speak, to believe
that something better can exist.
So this quilt we make
must carry everything—
the memory, the struggle, the dignity, the dream.
Because in the end,
it will not hold together
unless every thread—
every voice, every story—
is truly valued.