I trickled over Zimbabwean soil, its red earth giving me life,
I could breathe again – and a voice took over.
It was the voice of lion – roaring to them from a distance.
Amandla! For my fathers of peace, creators of unity and strength.
The earth became barren, no more money, no more rain.
I shall cry for you I said, I shall cry for all the lost children you mock and molest.
Africa spat me out in disgust – “Those who are vain will not be happy here.
Go back to where you came from.”
My porcelain skin was cut in many places – Belgium perhaps?
No, my spirit lives in the sun. I bring friendship and kindness.
Kill her, rape her, they spat at me.
And my flame of hope grew quickly thin.
I set Mpumalanga alight – only the animals knew my pain.
My love had set me alight, only to turn to ash and be with another.
His soul was void, my heart ached and ached.
Africa – my soul, how dare you call me an alien.
The soldiers fought aimlessly – black on black, white on white.
“Africa!” I yelled “You shall perish in your own muck.”
“Stop arguing!” I cried out – “I am pregnant with new life.”
“New life?” they pierced my stomach.
The rain came trickling down from eyes and belly.
My right eye has seen your evil. You are selfish – you do not care about others.
Africa, sing to me! But they did not listen, they were filled selfish desires,
Gluttony, greed and vanity for the rich, nothing left for the poor.
The poor came to them at night and haunted them – “give us your car, your wallet.”
I was afraid to be part of this lustful world. It was killing me.
I could not breathe the smoke, I could not see happiness.
They had burnt me out.