The Freedom March


The Freedom March


There is a stifled shout

A shout of excitement full

And yet strangely uncertain

A shout almost of anguish

In our tracks we all stop

Stone dead

And behold!

There is a light that flickers at the end of the tunnel

Together we huddle

Each other we cuddle

Finding hope and solace in numbers

Finding comfort and assurance in each other’s eyes

On and on we plod

Our tired feet dragging under us

Our energies expended almost

Our treasured hopes of freedom dusking almost

Dusking in a night of hopelessness

Those who still can

Those who are still able

Lift the exhausted by the shoulders

Lest they be left behind

For together we shall conquer

Together we shall perish if we have to

And feed the vultures of God

They smell death already

And follow and circle over us day and night

Like tick peckers on buffalo

As if they protect us

Guarding us like the angels of death they are

Sweat on our brows

Dust on our faces

The taste of salt and bile in our mouths

Fighting a losing battle we are

A battle against hunger and thirst

On and on we plod

Our mission: The flicker of light at the end of the tunnel

The light we see ahead

It has been a long journey

This journey, our journey

Full of hurdles insurmountable almost

Women ululate

Our women

They ululate

The men chant and grunt

And whistle

And cheer

The flicker of light bursts into flame

The flicker of light becomes a raging fire

We emerge from this tunnel

This maze of tunnels

Tunnels of colonial bondage

Tunnels of slavery and suffering

The warm sun of God pours down on us

Drenching and soaking us to the bone

Yes the warm sun that is freedom warms us

The beautiful land of milk and honey that is called Zimbabwe

Our Garden of Eden

Ours finally

Wrestled from the enemy by force of arms

Everyone throws their emaciated arms about

In a drunken orgy of triumphant joy

Celebrating this, our freedom

Like it was the second home-coming of Jesus H. Christ

Beat your drums

Blow your trumpets

Blow your horns

Sons and daughters of the Sun

And celebrate this, your first dance of freedom

For now and ever

We shall bring our captors, our tormentors

To a beggar’s repentance

And our own masters shall we become henceforth

Behold sons and daughters of the Sun

Behold sons and daughters of the Soil

Now is the time

Now is the appointed time

To mourn and to remember

To remember and to honour our martyrs

Those whose death keened our resolve

Those whose spilt blood watered our hopes

Those whose shed tears drowned our fears

Those who sacrificed their own lives

And paid for this, our freedom, with their breath!


Dear Father of Jesus, rest their souls

And here we shall erect a monument

A memorial of silver and gold

To remember by those fallen heroes and heroines

Whose unparalleled selflessness

Inspired us to push forward with the struggle for freedom

And plunge headlong into the cool and soothing waters

The waters of freedom

The waters of self rule

Cry freedom!



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