Abakwaskebhe bafika,
betshetha amalanga omisa umthombokakhokho,
kamkhulu,
kababa.
Ulimi soladuba,
Ifu elimunyama elathwal’ uZulu lona seladuka,
Ngakho ngizibika kanjani ngomlomo oswel’ulimi?
Angani olwab’ ulimi bona basiboleka,
Olude, olunzima kanjalo futhi oluhle umasikhuleka,
Phela ngowabo umdali esimkhonzayo,
Elabo idamu esiliphuzayo,
Liyaphuphum’ ekhaya akekho okhuzayo.
Phuthuma Zulu!
Khuza Zulu, ikhaya liyaminza olwandle!
ngikhuza njani — ngolimi olusindayo?
Mphakathi,
I stand before you today a landless mending free citizen
In the broken abundant Republic of South Africa,
A constitutional Republic,
Constituting of a governing public,
Where the public is the government,
The government is the public ,
The government burning the land of the public,
The landless public blaming the government,
The government blaming the government,
The public banning the government,
The public burning the land of the public,
The burning Republic of South Africa,
I standing before you today a proud patriot of a burning country!
For I have learnt to accept one simple fact —
It is not our fault that it is our fault.
Remember, thina we belonged “never” to ourselves,
Our fathers torched their oppressors’ belongings in context;
In protest, we torch our own now,
We belong to ourselves now,
But somebody forgot to tell us.
27 years ago
Our fathers won their voices and passed them down without a manual;
27 years later
We have inaptly packed our fine voices in our coarse voice boxes!
27 years later
We have opted to chant with our limbs a song of old,
A chorus of brick and stone reclaimed from a collapsing lyric they composed,
verses of fiery tires sung in discontent crescendo over a democracy decomposed!
27 years later
We have heard that in this era reason travels faster than brick and stone,
But have you seen the ways in their error?!
Hunger feeds on reason turning heart to brick and mind to stone,
Therefore what else do we have to fend against their terror?!
27 years later Silambile!
Indlal’ ibang’ ulaka,
Ulaka lubang’ udlame,
Isizw’ esingadli sizal’ efile
Inzalo engena smilo.
27 years later
We are told we ought to know better,
However, knowledge is obscure noise to the hungry stomach bearer.
27 years later
We are free men
charging into war
to take charge of a freedom our fathers won.
But alas,
A free man charging into war with no I’m understanding of the course is a danger to the cause.
Watch,
The country has caught fire on the West Wing,
Well, the commoners in the South have been erecting homes from ashes for ages now,
Do ask them how to breathe in smoke without a mask,
I bet you they have no clue,
They were born when all was already burnt to the ground.
The country has caught fire in the west wing,
And a man gunned down his son today,
Draped in dripping duty he sought bread for his son,
now corpse;
His son adorned in ferocious flames sought freedom for his father,
then cop;
A man gunned down his freedom today.
The country has caught fire in the West Wing,
They say that the flames spilt over from the brimming bellies of the Southern commoners,
The ascended descendants of ungoverned sons;
They were told to have inherited it all they want what is theirs,
Now, will these heirs seize this inheritance in ashes as did their fathers the South?
And what of the North?
Can they savour the smoke?
Do they even know of the fire?