The Dark Continent

At dusk the men come back from the white man's field,

with hoes and a sack of food on their shoulders and mpanga's in their hands,

At dusk the women begin to sing the welcome song,

for their husbands and children who return to eat her well cooked food.,

When the burning sun goes to sleep and the crystal moon awakens,

the drums begin to beat and the circle of warm fire is born,

the horns are blown and the people awake from the slumber of a trance,

men with their mats and drink, women with their beads and song,

children with their dances and laughter, elders with their stories and smile,

the drumming, the chatter, the dance, the laughter, the shouts in cohesion,

bring to life the dragon of colour and the Earth shakes with genuine rejoice,

they sing, dance, talk, drink, jump, play, laugh, love, live in the open

and when all is done the people sleep together, knowing no harm will come.

Then...

At dawn the men rise and return to the white man's field,

with their hoes, mpanga's and a kiss farewell from his family.

At dawn the women begin to cry goodbye

for their husbands and children head out to the white man's world.

Why are we the Dark Continent?

When we have the most love and happiness?

Why are we the dark continent?

When we are open with our trusted family, our trusted community,

Why?

Africa,

you are who you choose to be

not who they tell you, you are.

Destiny cannot be oppressed,

unless you allow it.

Remember who you are. Remember where we are.

March

The heat of the sun

has intensified more than ever

burning the sweat off the brow

of the people

Mother Nature has dried

leaving the air filthy and clogged

in fear of wasting

its precious fresh air just yet

Cockroaches, rodents, ants

have all retreated from the wild

underneath the shelter of homes

they can smell the bones of meat coming

soon.

The wild, wilder and wildest

of all animals shade themselves

from the openness of human eyes

for eyes have never held sharper

daggers.

Nature does not understand

therefore it cannot forsee

if the dance, drink and defiance

shall overcome diverse discrimination

Two clouds are cast

over a hut where

on one side- the darker cloud- burns to ashes

on the other- the white cloud- grows ripe fruits

The darker cloud is growing deviously

burning more and more of the fruits

taking the children, parents and vermin

to the ash

God the white cloud ties to fight of

his retired angel of the light- the angel of darkness

but to no avail, God is laughed at

by those he loves dearly

Mother Nature, Mother Earth

holds back her tears in effort

to wait to wash away the bloodshed

that shall seep into the soil

What only surprises me is that the cockroach

instead of us realises the path we may be willing

to take and disappoint once more

The Ides of March is not far but Brutus will not wait to betray

Caesar come the beginning of March;

We Brutus the people will betray once again our Africa

Within

Within nature I rest,
in the morning sun that awakens beautiful
creatures of the morning
in a harmonic ensemble.
I feel whole again
watching a petite, yellow-silked, feathered
weaver bird eat side by side with
an unknown human almost brotherly like

So small, tiny and fragile it is
But within the physical body
there is a soul so courageous and bold.
So determined to reach that single piece of bread crumb

It will fly closer and closer,
until it is a mere beak away
then swatted back like a
filthy deranged pest.

Some leave; ashamed at their failure.
The very few stay to persevere
and win nourishing success.

Motivate by this success
they return to lie in their own
intricately woven nests,
hiding away from prey and predator

they think…

Nightfall comes rapidly with
the pickling cold breeze
but withing the last few minutes of lights
the birds must hide from the rising shadows.

The predator set in to own the night
concealed in darkness to complete their deeds
and leave the bony scraps to unforgiving,
merciless but careful vultures.

The irony in which even the civilised of animals
follow the same livelihood as those of all people,
of Africans.

Bondage

When two minds become one

the consummation of the space between

leaves remnants of cold calculating desire

A desire that begins a set of dominoes

From childhood we are taught

that any form of relationship is

one that should remain valuable

towards the heart and soul.

But the say:

what looks simple to the eye

is complex for the heart

to a certain point that the heart becomes your eye.

In life we are bound to one another

not necessarily by choice at first

but by nature’s unforgiving destiny

no one can mutiny.

We are bound to each other

not by that bond which we say we are

but by that bond made in the darkness of night

that makes us cower from the sea of people in daylight

Love is that bond,

Love is that dream of perfection

Love is unexplainable but we

assume that we understand it.

It is a pack of lies

A pack of secrets that one pour out

to another.

That is what is bound to bind us.

So helplessly we are;

when those pure dreams are shattered

by the unprecedented truth that unveils

the true colour of oneself.

Journey

You're on a journey,
to laugh, to cry,
to hate, to love,
to live and die.

Over millennial
we have depicted a life
not worth fighting for
not worth dying for.

Our lives are construed
on the same storyline
as that of Athol Fugard's
Nongogo.

In the past the white men
were the Sam's
the black women the Queeny's
the black men the Patrick's
the Asians the Johnny's

Integration has mixed us
but even though mixed
we do not walk hand in hand
rather hearts in hands.

This journey you're on
do you ever wonder
why the rich keep living
and the poor keep dying

In this journey of ours
do you ever ponder about
why the women are regarded as home-keepers
and the men as bread-winners

Upon this journey of yours
did you embark
to fight for equality
to fight for democracy.

Africa has lived without it
dined with the devil himself
Charles Darwin's theory could never ever
be more evident than here in our home
Yet the world continued to revolve
into 'perfection'.

But there is hope, there always is
for perseverance paves a way
for those after us to walk on
and those before to shudder.

Weakness

For most it is seen as failure

failure to reach perfection

failure to succeed

failure to never fear.

But how do I grow without

ever learning to become strong

How do we become brave

if we never started with fear

They use our weaknesses

as a weapon against us

when we do not know our weaknesses

are our strongest assests.

There is no growth without improvement

into looking inside our own souls

and make concrete what was once

a weak hole.

If we let our own kind manipulate our identity

they won’t be the ones to take

our very last breath-

we will.

Fir although the murderous leopard

does not lose its spots.

It certainly grows into a more

conniving, cunning and cold killer.

Times have changed

so have the methods within

our different communities

but the essential goal remains the same

Most of us

are instilled with the mindset

that for one to succeed

the other must be weak and fail

It is not so,

look at bean plant

which grows alongside bacteria

all in symbiosis.

A lesson we need to learn from mindless.

True Poverty

In our minds,

In our hearts,

In our souls,

What is true poverty?

Is it the physical attributes of a person?

That they can not dress themselves accordingly.

For then I would be poor to. But am I?

Is it the wealth, the resources, the renowned fame?

For even then I am at the very bottom of that pit.

A nation acclaimed locally, globally and international

as the most poorest living people.

Is indeed the one whereby your wealth, your resources and fame

all originate and descend from.

Through a family I saw the true meaning of wealth and richness.

Through a family I saw the elder that had taken care of the younger

Now taken care of by the youngest of them.

In a family I saw the true meaning of wealth-

But not selfishness.

Poverty is an immaterial feeling to the soul

Poverty is an immaterial feeling to the heart.

Once the heart is lost to it; the mind soon follows

leaving a jagged end to a unique life story.

You measure wealth by paper.

You measure wealth by food?

You measure wealth by four-legged mindless beasts.

You measure wealth by clothes?

I measure wealth by care.

I measure wealth by the strength of unity.

I measure wealth by the simple charity withing people's hearts.

I measure wealth by love,

Love that people welcome you

with their warm open arms and

show you life's happiness, whilst

still maintaining the righteous path.

Let us agree to disagree.

Let us fight our fights.

The true poverty will always be, to me

the inability to love, care and be selfless.