The poetess in me begs to speak!

It is morning, I’ve just come in to do a bit of work and check my emails. I find a colleugue already tapping away. Then he mumbles. I wonder. I ask ” What are you on about King?” He says  ” I am reading some of Marcus Garvey’s poetry sistah” and I’m like..who?! He says “Marcus Garvey, sistah, google him”. I do and I am enlighted. He speaks to my soul and the poet in me refuses to keep quiet. He says :

Africa For The Africans

You may google it as I’m no plaguirist.

I wrote something similar earlier this year in my quest for knowledge and understanding of who I am. It goes :

Who among you is set free?

Who among you is set free?
The man who was oppressed just to be free?
The man that He touched to set you free?
Who among you really is free?
The freedom fighters who no longer see
The perils of the freedom set free upon us?

Who among us is free?
The student who sits at night for a degree
A degree of madness in a killing spree?
The child finally free of a confining womb?
Those who eventually shall never see a tomb
Who among you is set free?

Whomsoever is free in the Lord is indeed free
Is that what you my brothers solemnly decree?
The people shall govern! This land shall be free!
Free for all who those belong, my child here you belong
In this psychosis of a woman once marvelled by the world
Colonisation is still among you, yet my child I declare you free

Who among you is free?
Free to not greet your neighbour
Free to kiss and cuddle in the presence of elders
Free to not know who goes hungry or without a shoe
Free to be selfish in a ladder of success
Oliver Thambo do you see this?

Who among you is set free?
May the One deliver you in your quest
For even in this freedom a price is still paid
The struggle is now different
Demons rearing their ugly heads yet you are free

Who among you truly is free
Africa is dying, yet we are free
Brother turns for brother are they free?
Ignorance is sweet in the lips of youth
The struggle is different, I urge you
To understand that even today, you are not free

Is this what they died for? Freedom fighters
Forgotten by the souls they fought for?
For us to live like this? Not knowing our indigenous languages
Foreign in our own land? All traditions forsaken?
What can you do? What do you know?

Who among us is free?
Ancients paid for it by blood
Forever our faces tears they will flood
Our forefathers, what do you know?
Wonder what they would say now?
For this is surely not what they fought for

We are free, all of us, provided we play nice
Provided we are prejudice, judgemental bigots
Provided we play with the goldmine of knowledge
Provided we forget the scars forever etched in our souls
We are free, this is a decree, you are free, I am free
At what cost? For what purpose? Do you know?

Forgive me, it’s just that the poet in me refused to keep silent.


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