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(as we sing these songs) by Kgosietsile Dintlhoane

Kgosietsile Dintlhoane | June 5th, 2009 | poetry | No Comments

we put our trust in you
trusting that u still carry the same black blood
in your veins, trusting that since
we come from the same dusty streets
in the township, where everything still leaks,
roofs, toilets, hearts, our black hearts
leaking blood of the struggle we endured

that u will remember the humiliation
that u will remember your promises
that you will remember the commitment
that you will remember the long queues
to the ballot boxes
that u will remember to hold our hands
and show us the way to decent living

as we sing these songs of hope comrades
singing them with heavy tears on our eyes
singing them with heavy hearts
we trust that u will never forget
decayed bodies in graves
bodies that were shot dead because of our freedom
bodies which were once fathers and mothers
bodies which were once brothers and sisters
to the children u now see piling in the streets
eating dust and drinking dirt to quench their thirst

as we sing these songs of hope comrades
it is our way of telling our broken souls
that u will never forget the cause of Biko ‘s death
that u will never forget
that Mandela had to break rocks in jail
which were meant to break his passion
for freedom of all our people

as we sing these freedom songs comrades
it is our way of telling our dynamited minds
that there is no more need to carry bombs
that there is no more need to plot
killings of people who refuse to hear our cries

we sing these songs with the hope of reviving
the unity we had during our struggle days
the very songs that gave hope to Sobuke
to Hani, to Tambo, to Madikizela,

the very songs that shouted NO!
when black children were being shot dead by the regime

we repeat these songs comrades
to calm the pain in our hearts
pain caused by your amnesia
pain caused by watching you sipping blood red wines
whilst black bellies roars terrible songs of hunger

i call upon you comrade Zuma
to come and join in singing these songs with us
these songs of hope
these songs of our struggle
these songs now sounding sad at cemeteries
where Makeba calms raging Biko with a lullaby –

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