Part 1 - Introduction
Please let me rant!
I am angry, very angry!
I am angry with you Comrades
Ja! Ek is gatvol!
Ini ndakadumbirwa nehasha ini!
So, please, let me rant and blow off steam
If it burns you, you are standing on my face
If it warms you, heats you up, find your voice and blow off your steam
Part 2 – You promised equality Bwana
Once, we were lorded over by the colonialist
And to him we were subjects and objects
Only there to serve his corporal purposes
But you convinced us that we were people
And that in independent Afrika we would all be Bwana
Bwana of our lives, if only we worked with our hands and minds
So we sang “Ishe komborera Afrika, Nkosi sikelel’ iAfrika”
And we heeded when you called us to turn guns to plough shares
Little did we know that you meant our guns, and not yours
And when you promised it, we delivered forgiveness to the oppressor
Yes, it was us, who withheld our anger and retribution
Allowing you to lull us with a Truth and Reconciliation Commission
But where is the truth and where is the reconciliation?
Or did you forget oh, comrade, that we too, sought equality?
Equality for all, man and woman, friend and foe
Parity for master and servant, buyer and seller
Rain for the weak and the strong, and the soil short and the tall
Did you forget dear comrade; did you forget?
That it was so that no man's fate would be decided by another
That we took matters into our own hands and went into the bush
Part 3 – But you delivered “Animal Farm”
Or was the equality that you sought only equality for you?
Like George Orwell's “Animal Farm”
You became more equal than others
And like them, you started to live in their big houses
And sleep on beds with sheets, walking on two legs
You started drinking with them and like them
You dined, and dressed, and talked, and walked with them, and like them
And you forgot us, and our shared dream of Uhuru
And our zangata, our shared chibuku and umqombothi
And you avoid our potholed ghettoes like you would a plague
Part 4 - Want what we wanted
In this day and age every man and woman should want the same thing
That is the ability to do for one's self as one's self wishes
Is that not what freedom and independence is?
That if I want to work and build my house, or feed my children,
Or meet with people of a similar mind, I should be able to do it
Unlike in the times when I needed a piece of paper
Or the indulgence of another, for me to be
But no, you have dragged us back comrade
To the dark days of Lords and Masters who lorded over us
Denying that we were human, a people like them
We applauded you when you said we are a people
Little did we know that you thought yourself to be a god
Yes, those who praise you have even said you are the son of God
And that you will rule until God himself returns
As for us, we are your supporters if we agree
And stooges and puppets of the colonial man if we do not!
Only you have to right, to power, and to authority
Part 5 - Our missing mandate
Once upon a time we actually had love and pride for you
And those who pointed out your weakness and wickedness
We silenced them as enemies and detractors of the new nation
When we chose you to lead us, and to govern us
Our mandate to you, was to establish a government
That would look after our common dreams and goals
With rules and laws were meant to govern and protect our relationships
And yet you chose to rule us
You established a rule-ment not a govern-ment
Where daily you make rules to further entrench your power
You have abandoned our mandate, and you do not seek to please us
What we want or do not want is of no consequence to you anymore
You lavish rewards, awards and luxuries upon yourself and your cronies
Our hard won independence is yours and yours alone
With our hard-earned monies you build Nkandla, Zvimba and the Brooke
We chose you to judge disputes between and among us
And yet today our dispute is with you
How are you going to be the accused, the judge and the jury all in one?
Part 6 - Lost generations
Comrade, many generations have been lost to the times
Generations of Afrika were lost to the illiteracy and ignorance of the dark ages
Many more generations were lost to slavery and the slave trade
And yet others were lost to religious zealotry that wiped away our history and heritage
Colonialism, apartheid and other injustices that the colonial man poured on our land
Yes, we lost generations fighting the colonial men
Remember Mandela's 27 years in a white man's prison, on an island away from his people
And you comrade, and comrades, the days, moons and years similarly fated
And even when the war against the colonial man was ended
With our own hands we lost generations in that bloody transition to rediscovering ourselves
In South Africa our people killed one another in the name of tribe and political party
In Zimbabwe, Gukurahundi sends shivers down the spines of many
Cold blooded atrocities visited on their kith and kin
And the new millennium brought with it political violence and villains
Part 7 - Where shall we belong?
Even today we see the uniformed men in blue and black boots
Clothed with our tax monies and roadside fines and bribes
Like hounds that have smelt blood, shut to reason
As a boot, black, and a button, black, from a man, black
Land on the black backside of an old granny, black
Are we going to be yet, another lost generation?
Who will not belong! And who might never belong?
How can we belong to a country that butchers us?
How can they belong to a country that criminalise us?
How can we belong to a country you run like you own?
Or to a country you have sold to the men from the east?
Many of us now scrounge as aliens in foreign lands
With no right to vote both home and abroad
And yet our sweat and our money oil your politics
And you claim, like Ian Douglas Smith, that last colonial man
That we are too happy and “blessed” to have you
Part 8 – I am still angry…
I am angry, and very, very angry
Ek is baie gatvol
Ini ndakadumbirwa nehasha!
Friday, 30 September 2016 18:39
I am very angryBy James Chapangara Mugabe
I am a 34 year old Zimbabwean who has resided mostly in South Africa for the past ten years.
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