Ouagadougou, Ouagadougou, Ouagadougou
See a procession of young mothers chattering their way
From water fountains in grenade torn sandals
And blood laced bras
Somalia, Somalia, Somalia
See the moon disappearing in a mass of gunsmoke
Guns splitting the stars from the skin of night
Rwanda, Rwanda, Rwanda
This is a wound from which the pus of grief flows freely
Meandering through rockmasses into the valley that lost its freedom
Timbuktu, Timbuktu, Timbuktu
I hear a rush of footsteps of sorrow
Rugged peasants carrying their compounds to far away valleys of flowers.
2 comments:
Ah, impressive. It keep meeting authors from my hometown, Zvishavane. It must be an inspiring place. I know it is, especially the asbestors mines, the Mandava Bus Terminus, then the schools Dadaya, Mandava, Mototi. Impressive, impressive. Keep on writing, and as we say in ChiKaranga, rambai muchinyora vehama. And One Ghana, expect my poetry as well; I like the Pan-Africa, Nkurumaesque concept going on here.
Chikandamina what you are doing is amazing and we shall forever be proud of your works, you have taken our little known town, rimember zvamapere,gwenyuchi,shokonya to heights,
From Happious Butete
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