Heroes of our land

Monica Rupazo, Gracious Nyatanga, Timothy Mawoko, Donald Kuutsi, Florence Chikumba, Gaylord Munemo, Albert Sithole

MONICA RUPAZO

Heroes of our Land!

I saw a man on the roof of the house,

The roof was on the ground,

Its walls were fragment to the floors.

I saw him bleeding ridiculously,

Breathing for the least help he could get.

But that help was deaf; it could not perform.

He died with a heart of vengeance.

I saw men under the bridge, in the waters.

The bridge was lump; it had fallen into the waters.

Burying the men beneath its steel bars.

I saw hopeless droplets bubbling to the surface as they sank,

Fighting, to conquer the battle for freedom.

They died, droplets of compound air reflecting redemption.

I saw men on the ground.

The ground, as if a war-front on a battlefield.

I saw them all exposed to the face of the sun,

The sun roasting the breath and blood of warriors.

I saw them all in their camouflaged integrity.

Brave enough to lift the last sword, to fire the last bullet.

Brave still, they succumbed to the weakness of their arms.

They died tragic deaths, leaving us an independent, peaceful Zimbabwe.

They died,

Some survived.

I did not hold the AK47 in my hands,

I did not aim the bow and arrow at them,

I did not run on my knees to kill them all.

There are heroes that deserve to be acknowledged.

I did not fight the war or shed the blood.

There are fathers that dared bullet piercing and flesh insult,

While I hide myself in bins and drums.

There are mothers that dared hold hot steel and burning plastic,

Whilst I conceived in the prospect of their bellies.

The Mujibas, the Chimbwidos struggled wisely,

With faith of feeding hope for a victory one day,

And this day has been found proper to be reviewed and thanked.

Happy Heroes Day MaDzimbahwe!!!

Ishe Komborerai Zimbabwe!

GRACIOUS NYATANGA

We owned it yet we suffered having it,

That heritage borrowed silently with no hope to be returned,

Thus we gathered our pain and mounted our courage,

They fought hard to keep ours to themselves,

Protecting viciously what they had stolen,

Still we struggled till we secured.

Our power was within our loved ones,

Those who died for not knowing what they should have,

Those who perished for being born amongst us,

And those who kept the fire burning,

The fire of hope, faith and love,

And passed it on to others who kept it still.

What was ours is now ours,

Those we lost are still gone,

Those who lived we suffer the loss,

Such as the stolen shirt we had when we were young,

Only to be returned when we are too old to fit.

Heroes are not born, they are forged by their selfless love for others,

Whether deserving or not

DONALD KUUTSI

Rest in Peace our heroes who died in war

Gallant sons and daughters who didn’t despair

Fighting for honour

To end the reign of terror

Striving to enter by the narrow door,

Blood shade in pursuit of freedom

To set free the lives plunged in the cage of doom

Day and night persistence being the anthem

Restoration of lost glory and freedom being the theme

Legends who passed away during the struggle bearing an undying spirit

Resuscitation of a spirit with a bright flame that burnt beyond the limit

Going further beyond borders to unlock the doors to shade light

To light the dark tunnel restoring stolen heritage& identity

Dissolving the terror that reigned for a century because of agony you went through we now have the autonomy

Zimbabwean road to freedom a told legend

legendary armed struggle for restoration of justice& land

Some lost along the way without reaching the promised land

We thank & salute you for the freedom and peace you fought for

FLORENCE CHIKUMBA

Bound by blood and sweat

Their fate was doomed the day they were born,

Freedom was born out of bloodshed

Freedom was born out of armed struggle.

It was never ever easy for them,

for they sacrificed all to go and join the liberation struggle that brought total freedom to Zimbabwe.

They put their country first and thought nothing of themselves.

These are our gallant sons and daughter who have been through the mud and mire,

enduring the unimaginable distress and the privation of the love of Zimbabwe.

Our minds are full of songs you praised

And like loyal dogs we will forever bow.

With silent, grateful hearts,

the gentle smile, the long prayer of giving thanks.

l give thanks to our heroes who fought for our freedom, both dead and alive

We will never forget and forever you will remain our true heroes

ALBERT SITHOLE

Rivers of blood!

Bloody fields!

Explosions!

Guns blazing!

Battlefields!

Mass graves!

Our land, hypnotised,

Racked by ruthless souls from foreign land,

Who came unannounced by the drum’s beating,

Taking the kingship by a storm,

Iron fists, guns roulette,

Becoming captives on our land,

And so sprung the liberation,

I remember the tale of my father,

Torn between two forces,

Oppression and family,

Castrated by a rage of the battlefield,

Created prisons to bar change,

Brave sons and daughters of the soil rise,

And lift the African flag high,

With their hands they crushed the prisons wars,

With bare hands they destroyed the colour bar,

Opening floodgates of freedom with the sacrifice of beloved souls,

To bring Zimbabwe on our doorstep,

The land on the plateau freed

These were our heroes

Who give birth to a nation?

That milk and honey flows,

And so God loves our Zimbabwe.

We salute you,

Our Heroes!

Our soldiers!

GAYLORD “MARXIST” MUNEMO

Perceive the resonances of independence!

How saccharine the recompenses of their convictions,

The odds condemned them but how vivid their resilience,

To obliterate capitalism and convey socialism,

To abolish unfair labor laws of colonialism,

To eradicate policies which indulge just but the elite

How esteemed is their revolutionary conscience,

Our pride and remembered legacies,

History trenched them to the periphery,

Yet in the streets of Rhodesian cities they returned,

For to them laid their livelihoods,

How brutal were you harsh Rhodesia?

Our sovereignty befitted the inheritance from our heroes,

For many are gone for this lone cause,

Incarcerated for the liberty of their offspring,

The dead and the living,

Forgotten you are not, appreciated you are.

TIMOTHY MAWOKO

Through blood and guts they fought,

Though it seemed the cause was lost,

Brave were they when many ran helter-skelter,

Starve they did to make a nation better,

Such was the brunt born by the freedom fighters;

So many lost much in the fight,

In the darkness hoping to find light,

When one lost their life,

Ten never got to see a wife,

But giving up was never an idea to borrow,

That was the mark of the true hero;

What other better way to appreciate?

Than to pour these few words from the heart,

To the warrior who never got into school,

And the unknown soldier buried without a funeral,

For the liberisation of a nation,

Comrades, alive and dead alike, thank you.

THE POETS:

Munashe Rupazo — Published author & UZ student

Timothy Mawoko — UNISA law.

Donald Kuutsi — ND Marketing management Harare Polytechnic.

Albert sithole — ND Purchasing and supply Kwekwe Polytechnic.

Florence Chikumba — U6 arts Royal College.

Gaylord “Marxist” Munemo — MSC Anthropology UNISA

Gracious Nyatanga — ND Civil Eng Mutare polytechnic.

 

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