More Nothing My Own by Thompson Charlie

There is more nothing my own
Than the freedom of my heart
The pulse that searches
The wilderness for the tame
There is no wall more confining
Till to the cold wide sea
I am forced to stand in awe
The sun of Afrika all over me
Shining like a fire of gold
Smiles of [restrict]warm souls
warriors and pretty daughters
From Cape to Cairo
All the enchanting benevolence
Stirs my pride

There is more nothing my own
Than the colour of my skin
The blood poured out of Zanzibar
The energy and sweat stolen
And wasted across the rude seas
I who came out of that was left
From the Cameroonian high lands
The tiny spark all Afrikan
Blossoming fire of the flame lily
Grain-wisdom of natal red top
Spec in scattered confusion
Of colonial configuration
I draw my warrior blood
From the mighty Nile
And saliva of my tongue
Out of the Zambezi

There is more nothing my own
Than the caves of my ancestors
The living grace of Ubuntu
A carpet of cushion spread soft
Preaching, warring against tyranny
And dancing the naked rhythm
Of the wild and soft
O! the peace of slumbering villages
Either on hard rock or pavement
In tears or happiness
Afrika is my home[/restrict]

Thompson Charlie was born in 1968 in Highfield, Harare in Zimbabwe. He grew up in Mufakose Township during Zimbabwe’s transition to independence, a period in which he lost his father. From 1986 up to 2002 has taught in schools in the Mashonaland East province of Zimbabwe. His poetry and short stories were published in Tsotso Literary Magazine and Karibu! the anti-xenophobic newsletter published by Khanya College, Johannesburg. He lives in exile in South Africa and is founding member of the Afrikan Writers’ Forum and of the Zimbabwe Heritage Foundation, working with unaccompanied foreign minors, orphans and vulnerable children.