Friday, November 19, 2010

Crime Scene

I watched my brother collapse, struggling under the heavy weight of starvation,
There was nothing I could do for I was too weak to breathe and too strong to die,
The police were swarming everywhere, searching for the state enemies,
People have died so many deaths before the actual death,
The leaders were manufacturing plastic smiles to put on
On the next television show to block the vision of the masses,
Singing sent them to gallows tunes in off tune mode.
And enacting the advancement of poverty act,
Yet you see their children driving expensive cars,
At the expense of the masses who are no strangers to social and political injustices.
The gap between the leaders and masses is widening,
Election time they come around to begging for our votes,

Mr Government man you have turned parliament to a crime scene,
Parliament is now a crime scene.
Everyone in parliament is the entrepreneur of sin.

The ministers of education is burning the minds of the children,
Writing books that down play historical facts,
Contaminating the minds of the children with crap,
He drafting educate lead them to ignorance bill,
And tomorrow it will be passed in parliament with 100% majority.
Some schools are dilapidated, some schools are closed,
Where them youths, future leaders get education?
They continue to sub-educate the people so they will continue subjugating them.
Is education a privilege?

by Ras Quinton

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

ISSUES OF WATER




"Beautiful Zambezi,thy beauty and abundance causes wars"



Two hydrogen particles

and an oxygen

This is not science

Issues of conscience

Politics!

From dam to city

a tour of duty

century old project

from Zambezi to Bulawayo

no joke-

Politics!

Money spent

Time lost

Opportunity cost

Ndebele the host

This is tribal-

Politics!

When will it come?

Is it like rain?

Drain?

Pain?

Or Politics?

Issues of water

Now issues of power

Issues of class

Issues of tribe

And political belonging

Issues of water-

Politics!

BUDGETS


No currency

borrowed rands

hijacked dollar

“We are budgeting”

Mines catered for

Education

Industry

Civil servants

All catered for

“We are budgeting”

Done?

Complete?

How much?

From where?

Hundred and something

millions-

What?

How do you budget?

on what you don’t have?

Minister?

Honourable Minister!

Are you honest?

Monday, November 8, 2010

Who is to blame for Youth illegal migration?


"Road to a greener pasture"

The government of nation unity brought about a rekindled hope that unemployment will be a thing of the past. I say it is not living up to expectations of the youth. Youths still risk their meaningless lives to being devoured by crocodiles in the Limpopo River and doing menial jobs in Botswana where they survive by dodging the constables with orange badges.

One is left wondering what this entire fiasco means. As a young person, I am concerned. The truth and reality on the ground contradicts with what “our” principals in the GNU say. I have none myself. They tell the world that all is fine. There is nothing fine comrades except that the police officers in the road blocks are getting Obama Dollars as bribes. They will get filthy rich like in the years of red earth,2007 to 2008. My discussion is on youth migration, illegal migration to be precise. President Mugabe and his ZANU PF said “All things are possible” in 2008, my foot. Where is the possibility? Morgan Tsvangirai’s disciples were chanting “Morgan for more”. I laugh loud when I reflect. At list A.G.O Mutambara promised nothing for even now he is contributing nothing. The two or say the three are in power, the two slogans meant hope to Zimbabweans whether from ZANU or MDC. From combined strength and truth Zimbabwe would be an African Super Power but alas.

Go on a field visit to Beitbridge. Pass by MSF clinics, get statistics from IOM. They will tell you why Matabeleland South has the highest HIV prevalence compared to the national statistics. Youths still take the risk of searching for greener pastures. Yes, Zimbabwe is still grey. Do you think those in exile can think of coming back. I only came back because I believe I was born to suffer.

To cross the border to Johannesburg one needs 2000 Rands in the pocket. This is illegal migration. Whether you are smuggled like cocaine in the trucks past the border or via the crocodile route. You must have this cash for yourself and “ompisi” those from the “Pasipemuti” migration office. It does not make sense to someone why one has to part with 2000 Rands when they can part with less and travel safe. A close friend of mine who works with IOM told me so. It prompted me to research, and this article is the product of that painful research.

Simple mathematics can prove that when;

Passport fee is $50 (Standard 3 months)

Transport to Johannesburg becomes 350 Rands

One needs 750 Rands to travel legally across the border.

When one gets an emergency passport it can add up to 1500 Rands.

Why do young people still take up the dangerous route? One may ask. Someone is sleeping at work. The government is not doing enough. It is shortchanging citizens to say. Most young people who are border jumping either do not have birth certificates or national identity cards. The next question can be, Why? It is a harsh job to get a national I.D in Zimbabwe. When you turn 18, you can be referred to Harare if you are disempowered by being a citizen of Matabeleland. This also goes with a fine. Some young people do not know their chiefs. This is automatic disqualification from the game. You must know your chief or fake your area of origin just to get an I.D. Above all, you must sleep in the queue and risk shootings that have taken centre stage in our country or being apprehended by ZRP for loitering or prostitution. It is a rough ride to get these documents. I understand that under the United Nations Declaration of Human Rights that everyone is entitled to an identity even from birth. In paper everything looks hazy. Get to the ground. The taste of the pudding is in the eating for sure.

The government of the day has to make national documents accessible and affordable. They must not be a privilege of the few rich bodies and a dirty business. There is a lot of corruption going on in the registration offices that is public knowledge. The government officials are involved yet nothing is done. Young people suffer in that course hence they find themselves as invalid citizenry.

Zimbabwe is above 80% unemployment, almost 2 in every three citizens is living on illegal earnings or on an unknown source of income. The government of the day continues to tell the world in every summit that Zimbabwe is fine. It is not so true. The youths have not seen the promised Canaan. Maybe Tsvangirai has or Mutambara but we haven’t. If a parent accepts the fact that his/her child is changing clothes and eating good, without investigating the source of income. The parent is irresponsible. The government has to tell the world why Zimbabweans still flock to other countries without proper travel documents. In the course HIV spread rises, rape takes place, some are abused and others die yet the government does nothing. “This country has become a dangerous place to belong in because of the leaders who do nothing”. Linonifulu the great old man who is the Rubble Rouser in the Sunday News said,”It is bad table manners to talk while eating”. Everyone has a full mouth up there. They seem not interested to speak for they can be said to have bad table manners. Youths what is our take?


Friday, November 5, 2010

The Union

Grand lies
Protruding promises
Ambiguous rhetoric

The union
Of inconvenience

Familiar Strangers

I didn’t vote
for Prime Minister
Neither did I,
for president
Three strangers
on my shoulders
Strangers, really?
Leaders, really?

Who are they?
To me?
To you?
To us?

Thursday, November 4, 2010

Poetry to the People


Inspiring a thousand lives through poetry makes the world move for me. Each line, each verse and each expression make me feel whole.

“People
Let’s all become poets
And master the difficult art
Of articulating our lives
In political terms”

Just doing it with kids in rural areas.

Poetry Power.

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Declare War!

On corrupt governments
On undisciplined regiments
Which take people for granted
Those bodies of missing people
Purporting to be Members of Parliament
Making Parliament a house of play
Some gay
When masses starve and rot in poverty

Declare war
“I declare…..
On leaders who inspire hate
Preach xenophobia
Sprout racism
Fueling tribalism
Condoning regionalism
Allowing cannibalism
Subjecting nations to gloom
Causing doom
Making people butcher each other
Brother killing brother
Shedding innocent blood
Letting it stream like flood
Blood of children and women
A brood of vipers
Who know no amen!!!

Declare war
“I declare …..
On Politicians
Who value politricks
Who think hating
The British, Americans
Is patriotism
I declare war
On African leaders
Who indicate left to turn right
Calling people povo
Flourishing on lootocracy
Forgetting democracy
Prospering on corruption
Letting their erection destroy a nation

Declare war
“I declare ……..
On Africans
Who call other Africans Aliens
Worse kwerekwere
Declare war
On brothers labeling brothers trash
Killing each other for cash
I declare war
On Cain for killing Abel
Xenophobia they say
Shit on it I pray

Declare
“I declare...
On 1st world, 2nd world, 3rd world
Manmade divisions
It is satanic diffusion
To cause confusion
I declare war
On blood diamond dealings
Daylight stealing
People suffering and dying

Declare war
“I declare …….
On racists and rapists
On passive poets
I declare war
On those who want no peace in Afrika
I declare a war of peace
Never war on peace
Or against peace
Peace be still Afrika

Uma bedelela
Sizabaqhoba
Sibaqoqode
Phela siyiziqholo
Eziqaph’eqolo
Iziqoqodo
Sizaba qwaqwaza
Sibaqhiye
Sibanqobe
Ngoba Siyinqaba
Ngenkani siyinqaba

My friendly Enemy

You help me stand
To see me fall
You make me laugh
To see me cry
My enemy, My friend

Friends close
Enemies closer
I am a loser
Bushfire in the loose

You have taught me to hate
With a deeper hate
That hate, which makes one burst,
like a first time kiss
It remains dramatic
It sends a shiver down my spine
My number One Enemy
My first friend

A tiger never changes its spots
A snake is a snake
No matter what color
A kiss can fool
A smile deceives
An open heart believes

My friendly enemy
I want to see you die slowly
A slow sweet death
So touchy, so romantic
And so long
I want to see you languish
That will bring sweetness in me
Feel good at least
Like in a feast
I want to see you labor
Labor for my peace

If you don’t die first,--I will -
You will feel how lonely life is
How meaningless living is
How stupid you are
Without an enemy
Who gives you reason to breathe another day

You make my life
A bitter sweet life
Where tears flow
Past smiling chicks
In a speed so slow
And quickly bow to sorrow
Where a laugh
Transforms to a lament
You make me week in spirit
Strong in hate
And a believer in fate
Weary in flesh
Uncouth in revenge
With an anger so fresh

My friendly enemy
Friends close
Enemies closer
What a lesson?!!!!

Heroes and Heroines that rest

The day before you died
Is like that day you died
We had no time to learn of your stories
Your loved ones had no time to embrace you
No one had time to say goodbye
You went for a cause
And you died during the course
You died for a cause
The day you died
Is like that day before you died
You left no story to anyone
You said nothing to anyone
You just went
We heard nothing of you
We saw nothing of you
But your works
The day after you died
The sky played the rain song again
Showers, patters and splatters
Like the story in your “Story of My Life’’
We told the funeral tale of our land
On the ambers of our memories
Just like the day before you died
My heroes you are not here to input in the building
Of a nation you so much envisaged
I stand here not to mourn your mould
But to mourn for your untold story of
the mould of mud mudding on the tiles
As you lay dead in numbers, for years
Un-mourned
Unburied
Unsung
Unheard
In the cold dry soil
Leaving your remains as a final metaphor
For posterity to read the rot in the land
You clutch a manuscript of metaphors
As you descend to eternal time leaving your final metaphor
For poets to carve the ultimate poem

The day after you died
Is like that day before you died
but you are not here
My heroes you are not here
To poem our lives
Marred by the day after you died
We underwent serious times
That needed the brave ones like you
The strong ones like you
The resilient ones like you

The day after you died
Is like that day before you died
We did not get the present
you posted to us at the time of your death
You posted independence
You posted an envelop addressed “Sovereignty”
It did not arrive on time
Some went to collect it in Lancaster
After which the white man struck us
With a slap that made great man groan
He struck us with a hand called “sanctions”
The stripes were labeled “targeted”
The day before you died
This country was slapped again
Smith can confirm in his grave
So, the day you died
Is like the day before you died

Heroes and heroines that rest
Rest in peace
Rest knowing that we miss you
You left us when we needed you most
You left a job undone
Those who remain
Are “remains” for sure
Products of great mentorship by you
Though we know the truth
A product of food consumed
Is an unwanted product
Some, who remain,
are products of your hard work
They are not hard work
The day before you died
Is like the day after you died