[Civsoc-mw] On His Excellency's house arrest

[Tony Tontholani]

Mlembi: Jack Mapanje
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So, now that the febrile lion has accidentally fallen 
Into the chasm of his own digging, let us resume 

The true fight we abandoned thirty-three years ago 

& begin to sing in the native tongues the old guards 

Banned under the pretext of building our nation... 



Yet today, after the lion has pulped his own cubs dead 

Leaving the fragile village tainted in blood & after his 

Chums across the valleys & beyond the seas have even 

Shelved him; with lethal pythons & scorpions now tame; 

Should we pour our libation on the steaming ancestral 



Stones or shall we perhaps roll up our sleeve for other 

More insular & baneful battles, when those old guards, 

Not lionised enough by our euphoria, take their revenge? 

Those grass huts Mbulaje's clients charred gobbling up 

Whatever paracetamols they hacked their way still stand, 



Watching his dreaming potholes that'll need our tender 

& the human crocodiles their wicked amulets conceived 

Or the endless cerebral malarias & the tuberculoses they 

Loved to cast down dressed as AIDS. What chaos, what 

Rare sneer won't they raise for our freedom to redress?



M'bulaje jwine, n'lycje sadaka 

M'bulaje jwine, n'lyeje sadaka 

M'bulaje jwine, n'lyeje sadaka





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