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Friday, 30 September 2016 18:39

I am very angry

 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!
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James Chapangara Mugabe

I am a 34 year old Zimbabwean who has resided mostly in South Africa for the past ten years.