A new Zimbabwe nigh

08 Jul, 2018 - 00:07 0 Views
A new Zimbabwe nigh

The Sunday Mail

Khulekani Ndlovu, form 4
Marondera High School

My Zimbabwe, the mother of dominant Kings and valorous Queens

Isn’t it that your milk is getting dry and tasteless?

The blooming berries of your beautiful blossom are sulking

What is going to become of you?

My Zimbabwe, my heritage, my golden crown

Should your beauty untold succumb behind masks of false fat?

Oh Mother, anthem of negritude, should you be forgotten like

A love song which has vacated the ears of an old widower?

Oh Mother, nectar of Africa, should you be false dripping

Like a cactus stranded in sand nations and the saffron flames of the angry sun?

What is going to become of you?

Dreams of brighter days are all your children stare into

Hungry mouths uttering words of ignoble comfort

The pitch void of anguish and ambush devouring our melanin

Isn’t it that we are tired of weeping and wailing for long gone days?

When dreams came true and we fed on milk and honey

The way migrant locusts feast on open foliage

What is going to become of you?


My Zimbabwe, the craftwork of artistic minds

Aren’t the damsel hues smudging into haunted graffiti?

My mother, you will surely never be a colon again

But aren’t you becoming a slave to uncertainties and mental miseries?

What will become of you?

Imagine the hopes which overflowed in the spirits of our heroes and heroines

Driven by the thoughts of a moxie Zimbabwe they fought chimurenga

if they were to rise from the sleeping kingdom, hall of the dead

Won’t they wage war against us for your mistreatment oh Zimbabwe!

Reminisce all the indented smiles as they rushed through thorned bushes

For they saw mother Zimbabwe in golden ornaments and diamond thrones

Was it just a hallucination or mother, you are pretending to be one

What will become of you?

One man dining, the other fainting and fading in hunger

One man dancing, the other sweating on forsaken lands for just a grain

One man fat, the other indulging in the imitation of the skeleton

One man laughing, the other crying in the rays of dawn and dusk, even in the twilight

No, no i’m no hero, I don’t seek to achieve equilibrium

But I shall always stand up for equality

No no I’m no opportunist

Waiting to scavenge on the scraps of the mighty

But I shall not stop raising my voice above the mountains

For who will not speak out for their mother

Hear my voice all those who dwell in the womb of Zimbabwe

For after all these pangs, a new dispensation is born

Do not drown in the ruins of despair lovely lilies

For even though we weep, our tears shall water our dreams

A new Zimbabwe is nigh

Such are the torrents of life and we are the life in it

Let’s stand for our Zimbabwe and mighty, is what will become of it.


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