As I walk into the cemetery of history

I find a tomb where Africa is buried.

on her tomb, it’s written

“If only she did not stop singing her African song.”

and this is an African song.

I stand on a mountain, on top of a thousand corpses.

It is not that I don’t see the lifeless lying bodies.

But I am listening because I am distracted.

Afar, I am hearing children that are crying.

And mothers who are screaming

But no one hears their cries.

Because the fathers have taken off with trains

Singing “shebeleza” along the way to mines

digging for gold while they dug their graves

Children and mothers left adrift

Yes, that African song that used to be sung by many people

I cannot hear it anymore.

The speakers that once allowed

To sing to all Africans aloud

have stopped singing

I don’t refer to the likes of Nelson Mandela.

and Steven Biko

Those are men that lie dead in their graves.

And their freedom is being granted through the soil.

In the rooted tree of Mama Africa

I do refer to women who stand against violence and gender abuse.

I do refer to the men who stand against discrimination and racism.

I do refer to the men who stand against poverty and extortion.

I refer to the slavery of the mind, whose mind remains a slave to itself.

I guess that African song we once sang

which afforded us our freedom, has stopped playing.

If we cannot sing and tell them how we feel

How else are they supposed to hear

If we cannot sing and educate each other,

How else are we supposed to learn?

if we cannot sing and support each other

How else are we supposed to be one?

Perhaps the instruments are gone.

Perhaps music has become a thing of the past.

I do remember when we took to the streets.

We had forks, rocks, and knives.

But what we had most were signs.

signs that screamed in our voice

Rose them to the air

And paraded our needs

But of course, that is only the song of the past.

We once danced and protested all the lies.

We burned the streets with the gasoline of truth.

and trailblazed unity

But now…

It cannot be said

for the African song

is dead