[A poem on the 1976 Soweto Uprising]


Meet Me in Soweto

Long before this battle, the cries of the poor eroded
Groaning in the deep stunts of poverty
A child is born, and he remains rooted to Robben Island
Where the infidels mottle incongruously to death

Sometimes ago, the world was turned into a schism
The protruding bellies of the white farmers bloomed
As they discard the son of the soil, the police are after him
So, the battle continues in the deep heart of my blessed Soweto

I buried my anger within the walls of Soweto
Ridiculed by the unfriendly hands of poverty
The voice of Khotso Seatlholo mumbled below the pines
The voice of the terrorist, the extremist, shuttled again

Gone beyond the struggles of liberation
Filling the streets were Blacks, Indians and the coloureds
Tears streamed down their eyes like pills of a staccato
Moreover, some angst lay down their minds

Yesteryears, as you walk down the lanes of Soweto
The grilling eyes of the people stretch at you
Some asked, 'Of what use is this Bantu Education?'
Numbness fills your mind, and down to your throat

I have seen the battles and I have seen the horizon
Being suffused with the bodies of freedom fighters
The fires in the heart of men, keep burning and the winds keep blowing
The sky is clear. The stars shine. The rivers smell sweet.










Poetry by Onyeka Nwelue
Read 599 times
Written on 2006-05-21 at 12:19

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Emeka Chike Nwogu
You have a way of capturing the essence of any subject matter. This one is a beauty to behold. I like it.
2006-05-21